*  ;** 


BERNARD  LILE; 


lisloritul   Vionuiuf, 


THE  TEXAS  REVOLUTION. 


MEXICAN    WAR. 


PHILADELPHIA : 

J.  B.   LIPPINCOTT  &  CO. 

1856. 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1806,  liy 

JEREMIAH   CLEMENS, 
In  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  for  the  Northern  District  of  Alabama. 


DEDICATION, 


to 
OEORGB  W.  NEAL,  HUNT8VILLE,  ALABAMA. 

MY  DKAR  GEORGE, — 

I  have  taken  the  liberty,  without  consulting  700,  of  inscrib- 
ing your  name  on  this  page.  The  playmate  and  clan-mate  of 
my  childhood  and  boyhood — the  zealous  and  unwavering  friend 
of  a  manhood  which  the  shadow  has  darkened  as  often  as  the 
sunshine  has  gladdened,  I  should  have  been  untrue  to  myself 
if  I  had  failed  to  mark  my  appreciation  of  a  friendship  so  warm 
and  so  unselfish. 

Between  yon  and  me  professions  of  kindness  are  not  needed. 
We  can  afford  to  take  each  other's  good  will  on  trust,  unless 
the  experience  of  more  than  half  a  lifetime  is  valueless ;  but  it 
may  not  be  ungrateful  to  your  children  to  know,  that  others 
have  appreciated  the  upright  manliness,  the  stainless  integrity, 
the  clear  judgment,  and  the  untiring  energy  of  a  father's  charac- 
ter. It  is  a  far  higher  legacy  than  any  other  yon  may  have  to 
bestow,  and  I  would  have  them  cherish  it  with  increasing  pride 
and  satisfaction. 

JEBE.  CLEMENS. 


2052376 


PREFACE. 


THIS  book  owes  its  existence  to  an  accident, 
which  for  months  prevented  me  from  participating 
in  the  more  active  duties  of  life.  Although,  a 
romance  in  name,  imagination  has  had  little  to  do 
with  its  preparation.  It  records  events  the  most 
of  which  will  be  familiar  to  many  who  read  it. 
Most  of  the  characters  are  drawn  from  real  life. 
Not  a  place  is  described  I  have  not  visited.  Scarcely 
a  scene  is  depicted  which  is  not  based  upon  an 
actual  occurrence.  It  is  a  book  of  life— of  life  not 
as  I  wished  it,  or  thought  it  ought  to  be,  but  as  I 
have  found  it.  It  has  no  plan,  for  human  life  has 
none.  A  thousand  unforeseen  circumstances  are  for 
ever  swaying  our  purposes,  and  making  a  mockery 
of  our  firmest  resolves.  It  makes  no  attempt  to 
paint  the  author's  ideal  of  a  perfect  man.  In  all 
"the  busy,  bitter  scenes"  through  which  I  have 
passed,  I  have  met  no  such  character,  and  believe 
not  in  its  existence.  There  are  none  of  us  so  free 


PREFACE. 


from  errors  that  we  can  afford,  without  self-con- 
demnation, to  be  uncharitable  to  the  sins  of  others ; 
and  I  know  of  no  good  that  can  be  accomplished  by 
freeing  the  hero  of  a  romance  from  the  faults  inci- 
dent to  humanity. 

The  reader  will  find  in  this  volume  no  approach 
to  the  extravagancies  of  language  attributed  to  the 
South -West  by  almanac  makers  and  scribblers, 
whose  knowledge  of  the  country  and  the  people  is 
bounded  by  a  steam-boat  excursion  down  the  Mis- 
sissippi. The  South-West  has  a  language  of  its  own ; 
but  it  in  no  degree  resembles  the  miserable  carica- 
tures with  which  the  country*  has  been  flooded. 
Sometimes  whole  sentences  are  uttered  not  only  in 
the  purest  English,  but  in  the  loftiest  strain  of 
eloquence.  Then  again  every  line  is  filled  with 
inaccuracies,  but  the  figures  are  always  striking, 
and  the  words  chosen  best  calculated  to  convey  most 
forcibly  the  speaker's  meaning.  Born  upon  the  fron- 
tier myself,  and  passing  the  most  of  my  life  among 
its  rudest  scenes,  I  know  the  people  well,  and  have 
sought  to  preserve  their  language  exactly  as  it  is. 

Every  man  who  writes  a  book,  I  suppose  has  a 
motive;  but  very  few  tell  it  honestly  in  the  preface 
Perhaps  I  shall  best  escape  the  suspicion  of  like 
dismgenuousness  by  keeping  mine  a  secret;  remark- 
mg  only,  that  if  the  American,  when  he  lays  it  down 


PREFACE.  Xi 

feels  in  his  bosom  a  warmer  throb  for  his  country,  a 
higher  appreciation  of  its  excellencies,  and  a  more 
devoted  attachment  to  its  institutions,  he  need  not 
look  further  for  the  motive  which  induced  the  author 
to  undergo  the  labor  it  has  cost,  or  the  hope  which 
sustains  him  in  submitting  his  production  to  the 
criticism  of  the  press. 

THE  AUTHOR. 


LIFE. 

How  little  do  we  know  the  secret  source, 
From  which  life's  fountain  bubbles  into  day? 

How  little  can  we  guide  its  wandering  course, 
As  on  it  flows  upon  its  turbid  way  ? 

We  watch  it  as  it  rises  from  the  spring, 

And  follow  for  a  little  way  the  tide ; 
Then  doubt  and  gloom  their  heavy  shadows  fling, 

On  all  that  we  would  wish  to  know  beside. 

Of  one  thing  only  can  we  certain  be ; 

That  care  and  sorrow  never  leave  the  bed, 
That  little  stream  must  journey  to  the  sea — 

Still  constant  when  all  brighter  things  have  fled. 


(xii) 


BERNARD    LILE. 


CHAPTER   I. 

"leu  bMr — 

However  wretchedly,  »tU  rtlll  to  bear— 

In  life  what  others  could  not  brook  to  dreun, 

But  periafa  In  their  (lumbar." 

IT  was  a  gloomy  night,  towards  the  close  of  October, 
1835.  The  wind  whistled  along  the  broad  avenue  that 
leads  from  the  Capitol  to  the  mansion  of  the  president, 
and  the  blinding  sleet  was  driving  fiercely  in  the  face  of 
a  pedestrian,  who,  closely  muffled  in  a  heavy  boat-coat, 
was  moving  rapidly  over  the  broken  and  uneven  pavements 
of  the  Federal  City.  Turning  into  a  cross  street,  he  was 
lost  amid  the  deep  darkness  every  where  reigning,  save 
upon  the  lamp-lit  avenue.  Let  us  follow  as  he  pursues 
his  solitary  way  through  night  and  tempest.  What  is  it 
that  drives  him  forth  at  such  an  hour  ?  In  that  wide  city 
all  the  hopes  and  fears,  the  cares,  the  sorrows,  and  the 
joys  which  make  up  the  sum  of  human  life,  have  found  an 
abiding  place.  Ambition,  avarice,  venality,  corruption — 
the  petty  vice,  the  daring  crime,  are  strangely  mingled 
with  all  that  is  elevating  in  patriotism,  generous  in  feeling, 
or  manly  in  action.  But  it  is  not  at  the  bidding  of  pas- 
sion, or  of  duty — of  vice  or  of  virtue,  that  our  wanderer 
braves  the  elements.  Gold  he  does  not  seek,  and  the 
schemes  of  political  managers  are  strangers  to  his  bosom. 
It  may  be  that  such  things  have  occupied  his  thoughts  in 

2 


^4  BERNARD     LILE. 

other  days,  but  they  have  long  since  palled  upon  the  taste 
He  is  a  lave  to  that  wild,  fierce,  never-ceasing  vant,  whi 
assumes  a  mastery  over  the  soul,  when  the  heart  has  be 
burned  to  ashes  by  the  fires  of  former  passions, 
all  the  past  one  word  was  written  in  lurid  characte 
AGONY  ;-on  all  the  future-DESPAiE.     He  knew  his  doom 
-had  walked  with  it  hand  in  hand  for  many  a  year,  u, 
grown  so  familiar  no  shudder  followed  its  contemplatu 
Still  it  drove  him  on,  and  on,  and  on,  he  knew  not  where, 
and  cared  not,  so  the  pathway  was  stormy  and  dangerous. 
It  is  hard  enough  to  walk  through  the  world  with  no  ob- 
ject but  forgetfulness ;  no  hope  but  to  chase  way  the  dark 
thoughts  and  bitter  memories  that  hang  around  us.    Yet 
this  is  peaceful  tranquility  compared  with  the  restless 
wretchedness  of  a  strong  human  mind,  too  proud  to  bend, 
too  inflexible  to  break,  too  haughty  to  shun  reflection,  or 
seek  for  sympathy  to  soothe  the  miseries  of  existence. 

"War  with  all  things, 

And  death  to  all  things,  and  disease  to  most  things, 
And  pangs  and  bitterness ;  these  were  the  fruits 
Of  the  forbidden  tree." 

But  there  is  a  higher  curse ;  a  sterner  condemnation,  which 
fell  upon  the  rebellious  angels,  and  falls  now,  at  intervals 
of  centuries,  upon  some  son  of  earth,  whose  nature,  like 
theirs,  scorns  the  obedience  Omnipotence  demands,  or  the 
submission  or  repentance  necessary  to  forgiveness.  That 
curse  is  never  written  on  the  brow.  It  steals  not  away  the 
symmetry  of  form,  and  leaves  untouched  the  beauty  of 
feature.  Petty  vices,  such  as  debauchery,  avarice,  licen- 
tiousness, all  these  leave  their  traces  behind  them.  But 
the  victim  of  a  loftier  curse  hugs  the  fatal  secret  to  his 
bosom,  and  lives  on  without  love,  without  hope,  without 
fear;  guarding  with  sleepless  vigilance  against  every  out- 
ward manifestation  of  suffering  or  of  grief.  Of  such  a 


BERNARD     LI  L  K .  16 

nature  was  the  solitary  night-wanderer  whose  footsteps  we 
propose  to  trace.  Above  human  pity,  he  would  have 
spurned  human  sympathy  as  an  insult.  Whatever  his  lot 
might  be,  he  sought  no  support,  but  wrapped  in  the 
settled  firmness  of  his  own  soul  awaited,  without  a  tremor, 
all  he  could  be  called  on  to  endure. 

Steadily,  without  turning  or  pausing,  he  passed  along 
the  gloomy  street,  until  he  reached  a  plain  brick  dwelling 
of  no  outward  pretensions.  The  door  was  opened  at  his 
knock,  and,  depositing  his  hat  and  over-coat  in  the  entry, 
he  moved  without  question  to  an  inner  apartment.  It  was 
evident  that  he  was  no  unfamiliar  guest.  Within  that 
room,  decked  with  the  splendor  of  an  Eastern  queen, 
half  sat,  half  reclined,  a  female  of  startling  loveliness. 
Her  costume  was  that  of  another  land,  and  the  vivid  light 
flashing  from  her  dark  eyes,  told  of  passions  which'  had 
their  birth  beneath  a  fiercer  sun  than  ours.  Twenty  sum- 
mers might  have  passed  over  her  head,  but  of  this  the 
gazer  was  in  doubt,  for  while  her  form  denoted  maturity, 
there  was  in  every  motion  that  elastic  freedom  and  buoy- 
ancy so  seldom  surviving  early  girlhood.  She  wore  a 
robe  of  crimson  velvet  over  a  dress  of  satin,  richly  worked, 
and  sparkling  with  jewels.  Below  the  short  skirt,  wide 
trowsers  of  the  finest  lace  extended  to  the  ankles,  where 
they  were  gathered  with  diamond  clasps.  The  costly  band 
that  had  confined  her  hair  was  loosened,  and  it  now  hang 
in  jetty  masses  about  a  neck  and  shoulders  whose  white- 
ness might  have  shamed  the  snows  of  Ararat.  A  little 
foot,  of  perfect  symmetry,  was  resting  on  a  cushioned  stool, 
and  at  the  moment  her  attention  seemed  to  be  occupied 
by  the  precious  stone  which  supplied  the  place  of  a  buckle 
to  her  satin  slipper.  She  looked  up  with  a  glad  smile 
when  the  door  opened,  and,  though  she  did  not  rise,  there 
was  joy  and  music  in  her  silvery  voice. 


}6  BERNABD     LILE. 

"  You  are  welcome,  Bernard.  Oh !  so  welcome,  for  it  la 
a  wild  night,  and  I  feared  you  would  be  late." 

"  I  thought  not  of  the  night,  Zerah,  and  in  truth  it  is 
not  so  very  bad.  I  should  have  liked  it  better,  if  it  had 
been  more  stormy.  The  war  of  the  elements  is  far  more 
grateful  than  the  petty  struggles  of  my  kind." 

He  threw  himself  upon  the  sofa,  and  added,  as  he  gently 
took  her  hand  in  his  own.  "  Order  some  refreshments. 
Brandy  if  you  please,  for  I  have  a  story  to  tell,  and  a  little 
of  that  fiery  poison  Satan  sent  into  the  world  for  his  OWD 
purposes,  will  not  be  amiss." 

•  The  bell  was  touched,  glasses  and  brandy  placed  on  a 
stand  before  him,  and  his  lovely  companion,  leaning  her 
head  on  her  hand,  prepared  to  listen  without  a  word  of 
comment  to  all  he  saw  fit  to  relate.  He  did  not  keep  her 
in  suspense.  With  a  low  but  firm  and  steady  voice  his 
narrative  was  begun. 

"  This  is  my  native  land.  Many  years  ago  it  witnessed 
a  terrible  tragedy.  I  will  not  shock  you  by  relating  the 
horrid  tale.  It  is  enough  that  it  made  me  what  I  am. 
To-night  I  have  gone  through  it  all  again.  To-night  it 
has  risen  up  before  me,  clear,  vivid,  distinct,  as  in  that 
hour  when  my  hand  was  first  dyed  with  human  blood,  and 
I  became  a  curse  to  earth,  an  outcast  from  heaven. 
Before  the  sun  of  Asia  had  first  pressed  its  fiery  kiss 
upon  that  heavenly  brow  of  thine,  my  Zerah,  I  loved 
with  a  wilder  fervor  than  the  angels  who  deserted  heaven 
and  its  joys,  for  the  sweeter  embraces  of  the  virgins  of  earth. 
It  is  needless  now  to  go  over  all  I  felt,  enjoyed  and  suffered. 
Still  more  needless  to  describe  one  who  was  everything  to 
me— who  has  been  nothing  to  you  heretofore,  and  whom 
I  have  no  wish  should  hereafter  be  a  sad  and  sorrowing 
memory.  We  were  wedded  according  to  the  forms  of  that 
religion  you  despise  and  hate.  Her  after  story  must  remain 


BERNARD     LILE.  17 

a  sealed  book  to  you ;  but  from  that  time  I  became  a  wanderer. 
Peace,  rest,  forgetfulness  were  gone  forever.  The  first  taste 
of  blood  had  created  a  never-ending  thirst  for  more, ;  and 
in  many  a  land  the  pathway  of  Bernard  Lile  has  been  • 
marked  by  havoc,  and  bedewed  with  tears.  I  met  you 
and  there  came  a  calm.  With  that  came,  also,  a  yearning 
desire  to  visit  once  more  the  home  of  my  youth,  and  tread 
among  the  graves  of  those  I  had  known  and  loved,  long, 
long  ago.  The  rest  you  know.  To-night  in  one  of  those 
halls,  so  common  in  crowded  cities,  where  fortune  is  first 
lost,  then  honor,  character,  the  sense  of  shame,  and  often 
life  itself,  I  watched  a  young  man  at  play,  whose  golden 
locks,  bright  blue  eyes,  and  speaking  face  too  vividly 
placed  before  me  the  image  of  one  I  had  last  seen  wrapped 
in  a  purple  shroud.  He  lost  until  his  last  farthing  was 
gone,  when  he  rose  from  the  table,  passed  into  another 
room,  and  drank  deeply.  I  followed — placed  my  hand  on 
his  shoulder,  and  inquired,  '  Is  your  name  Wilson  ?' 

" '  Yes,  sir,'  was  the  hoarse  and  almost  inarticulate 
reply. 

" '  The  son  of  Robert  Wilson  of ?' 

" '  The  same,  sir,  did  you  know  him  ?' 

" '  Well,  very  well.  He  is  dead  I  infer  from  your  ques- 
tion ;  but  James,  Sarah,  and  Willie,  where  are  they  ?' 

" '  Gone,  all  gone  ;  I  am  the  last  of  my  race.' 

"  You  have  seen  me,  Zerah,  when  the  cobra  capella  had 
wound  its  folds  about  my  limbs,  and  not  a  muscle  quivered 
beneath  its  slimy  touch.  You  have  seen  me  when  the 
lightning  shivered  the  rock  on  which  I  leaned,  and  not  a 
movement  betrayed  consciousness  of  the  terrible  danger. 
But  that  boy's  brief,  sad  story — that  history  of  woe  con- 
densed into  a  single  line,  so  shook  me  for  a  moment,  that  I 
could  not  trust  my  voice  in  reply.  He  was  the  first  to 
break  silence. 


IS  BEBNAEDLILE. 

"  '  You  seem,  sir,  to  have  known  my  family  well.  May  1 
ask  you  your  name  V 

"  '  It  would  not  enlighten  you,  if  you  heard  it.  I  was  an 
exile  before  your  birth,  and  the  name  I  now  bear  was 
assumed  in  a  foreign  land.  But  pardon  the  seeming  rude- 
ness, and  allow  me  to  ask  you  a  few  other  questions.  Your 
father,  when  I  knew  him,  was  far  from  rich.  You  have 
lost  heavily  to-night ;  can  you  afford  it  ?' 

" '  I  am  ruined,  penniless,'  was  the  reply,  in  a  tone  that 
showed  despair  had  already  folded  its  wings  on  his  young 
heart,  and  begun  to  fit  it  for  a  life  of  crime,  a  death  of 
shame. 

" '  How  much  have  you  lost  ?' 

"'Every  cent  I  had  in  the  world.  Fifteen  hundred 
dollars.' 

"  Taking  out  a  card,  and  writing  on  it,  Bernard  Lile,  care 
of  Monsieur  Evadne,  Banker,  New  York,  I  handed  it  to 
him,  with  a  roll  of  notes,  about  twice  the  amount  of  his 
losses;  adding,  'You  will  do  me  a  favor,  my  young 
friend,  by  accepting  this  money  as  a  loan,  and  a  still 
greater  favor,  if  at  any  time  you  should  need  a  friend,  by 
dropping  a  note  to  this  address.' 

"  He  trembled,  stammered,  and  then  burst  into  tears. 

" '  I  thank  you,  sir.  I  thank  you.  From  my  soul  I  do. 
I  will  keep  your  card,  but  I  cannot  take  this  money  from 
a  stranger.  I  can  never  repay  it.  I  am  a  Lieutenant  in 
the  army,  and  can  live  upon  my  pay,  but  I  cannot  live 
under  the  sense  of  such  an  obligation.' 

11 1  am  no  stranger  to  any  of  your  blood.  The  money  I 
must  insist  upon  your  taking.  The  devil  never  had  so 
efficient  an  agent  as  Poverty.  When  you  see  your  comrades 
indulging  in  a  style  of  living  you  cannot  afford,  you  will 
be  contriving  means  to  indulge  in  it  also.  When  you  lie 
lown  at  night,  you  will  be  dreaming  of  your  losses  At 


BERNARD     LILE.  19 

first  you  will  curse  the  folly  that  sent  you  to  the  gaming- 
table. Then  yon  will  begin  to  think  that  "luck  may 
change."  You  will  be  induced  to  try  it  again.  The 
tempter  will  be  always  whispering  in  your  ear,  and  if  you 
do  not  seek  the  cowardly  grave  of  the  suicide,  you  will  end 
by  becoming  bankrupt  in  character,  as  well  as  in  fortune. 
Take  the  money  yon  must;  unless  you  would  have  me 
think  that  the  son  of  an  old  friend,  the  last  scion  of  a 
gallant  race,  is  utterly  lost  to  himself,  and  his  country. ' 

" '  But  you,  sir,  you,'  he  faltered,  '  can  you  spare  so  large 
an  amount  ?  for  it  will  be  long  before  I  can  pay  you,  if 
ever.' 

"  '  Spare  it  I  Aye,  and  five  hundred  times  the  sumjtf  it 
were  needed  to  save  you.  Once  I  was  young  and  unstained 
as  you  are — the  future  bright  with  promise,  and  glorious 
with  hope.  Then  I  became  an  outcast,  poor,  much  poorer 
than  you  are:  friendless  and  penniless — half  naked,  and 
half  dead  with  hunger.  Now  I  am  rich  ;  richer  than  your 
wildest  calculation  would  equal.  But  I  went  through  that 
to  obtain  it,  which  would  have  withered  a  thousand  frames 
like  yours,  and  frozen  the  life-blood  in  a  thousand  hearts. 
To-morrow  I  shall  see  you  again — for  the  present  good- 
bye. I  do  not  tell  yon  to  avoid  the  gaming-table,  for 
this  is  a  lesson  I  think  you  will  not  readily  forget.  It  is 
only  men  whose  hearts  are  cased  in  ice,  or  worse,  like  mine 
in  fire,  who  can  be  gainers  here.' 

'•  And  so,  without  waiting  for  a  reply,  I  left  him,  and 
have  come  to  tell  you  I  shall  soon  be  a  wanderer  again. 
That  boy  is  the  brother  of  her  whose  grave  I  dug." 

Calmly,  coldly,  without  a  sign  of  emotion,  without  a 
shade  upon  his  brow,  his  story  had  been  told.  Even  the 
fair  listener,  who  knew  so  well  the  strange  being  with  whom 
her  fate  was  linked,  wondered  at  the  mighty  power  of  that 
unconquerable  will,  which,  to  all  outward  seeming,  could 


20  BEBNABD     LILE. 

silence  remorse  at  pleasure,  and  bind  down  agony  with 
fetters  of  adamant.    Whatever  emotions  may  have  agitate- 
her  while  listening  to  this  dark  recital,  they  found  no  voice, 
and  called  forth  no  questioning. 

Rising  slowly,  when  it  was  ended,  she  threw  one  lovely 
arm  around  his  neck,  smoothed  back  the  hair  from  his 
pallid  brow  with  the  other  hand,  and  imprinting  a  kiss  upon 
it,  inquired  seriously,  but  not  sadly,  or  complainingly, 

"  Well,  Bernard,  when  shall  we  go  ?" 

u  Ah  !  there  is  the  worst  of  it,  for  it  will  give  you  pain. 
I  go  alone." 

"  Alone !"  she  exclaimed,  starting  to  her  feet,  with  sudden 
and  passionate  energy.  "  Alone  1  and  wherefore  ?" 

"  Sit  down  and  listen.  When  I  left  this  continent  it  was 
a  wilderness,  except  a  narrow  belt  of  land  on  its  eastern 
coast.  Since  that  time,  wave  after  wave  of  bold,  hardy  and 
adventurous  spirits  have  poured  across  the  mountains,  and 
penetrated  the  pathless  forests  of  the  west.  To  these  were 
added  the  desperate  and  the  lawless  for  whom  civil  society 
had  become  an  insecure  abiding  place.  Splendid  cities 
now  stand  where  the  panther  and  the  savage  then  held 
divided  dominion,  and  palaces  are  floating  on  the  bosom 
of  streams  nothing  had  ever  rippled  save  the  light  canoe  of 
the  Indian.  As  arts  and  civilization  advanced,  the  first 
adventurers,  and  others  of  like  character,  were  driven 
farther  west,  until  they  reached,  and  crossed  that  mighty 
river  not  unaptly  named  '  the  great  father  of  waters.'  Our 
own  territory,  vast  as  that  was,  seemed  too  contracted  for 
those  restless  wanderers.  They  reached  the  confines  of  a 
neighboring  nation,  and  plunged  without  hesitation  into 
the  wide  prairies  stretching  for  miles  and  miles  along  the 
northern  frontier  of  Mexico.  Nor  were  they  at  first  on- 
welcome  visitors.  Practiced,  from  early  infancy,  in  the 
daily  use  of  the  rifle— fearless  as  the  lion  of  the  desert ;  and 


BERNARD     LILE.  21 

ready  at  any  moment  to  engage  in  the  most  dangerous 
undertakings ;  it  was  fondly  hoped  they  would  prove  an 
efficient  protection,  to  the  timid  inhabitants,  from  the 
merciless  inroads  of  the  savages.  And  so  they  did ;  but 
as  time  wore  on  they  began  to  think  that  the  land  defended 
by  their  valor,  ought  of  right  to  belong  to  them  :  and  that 
the  government  from  which  they  derived  no  protection  was 
entitled  to  no  allegiance.  Difficulties,  discontent,  quarrels 
with  the  central  government,  were  the  necessary  result. 
These  disputes  have  reached  their  climax,  and  the  world  is 
about  to  witness  the  most  extraordinary  spectacle  in  its 
history. — A  little  community  of  not  more  than  five  thous- 
and inhabitants,  boldly  defying  a  nation  of  eight  millions 
of  people,  and  appealing  to  the  decision  of  the  god  of 
battles.  In  that  struggle,  when  it  does  come,  I  must  have 
a  part.  The  wild  chivalry  which  gives  it  birth,  the  despe- 
rate odds,  the  iron  men  who  have  raised  the  tempest,  and 
defy  its  power,  all  possess  attractions  I  would  find  it  diffi- 
cult to  resist.  Above  and  beyond  this,  for  the  first  time  in 
many  years,  a  ray  of  hope  has  dawned  on  me.  There  is  a 
low,  sweet  voice  forever  whispering  in  my  bosom,  go,  such 
a  work  may  be  accepted  in  some  part  as  an  atonement  for 
the  past  In  a  war  begun  and  carried  on  to  secure  the 
right  of  self-government,  and  the  higher  right  of  interpret- 
ing the  word  of  God  according  to  the  light  of  our  own  rea- 
son, rather  than  the  corrupt  and  interested  relations  of 
Romish  priests,  the  powers  of  good  cannot  be  indifferent 
Every  drop  of  blood  shed  in  such  a  cause  is  hallowed — every 
good  blow  struck,  lightens  the  burden  of  former  sins,  and 
infuses  new  life  and  energy  into  the  weary  and  heavy  laden. 
"  I  pretend  not  to  question,  Bernard,  that  whatever  you 
do  is  for  the  best  I  only  ask  to  go  with  yon,  no  matter 
what  sky  may  look  down  upon  the  land  you  visit.  I  have 
slept  upon  your  bosom  among  the  Caucasian  mountains—'- 


22 

together  we  have  traversed  the  desert  of  Zahara,  and  to- 
gether we  inhaled  the  deadly  malaria  of  the  Africa  gol 
cost     There  can  be  nothing  new  to  me  in  the  sights  ai 
sounds  of  battle:  or  do  you  fear  that  this  life  of  sloth 
has  subdued  the  strength  and  courage  of  the  < 

girl  ?" 

"No,  Zerah,  no.    I  know  all  that  you  can  do,  and  all 
that  you  can  endure.     Place  a  keen  sabre  in  this  little 
hand,  and  I  would  rather  trust  it  in  the  hour  of  danger 
than  a  dozen  of  the  silken  things  of  cities  who  are  misnamed 
men.    It  is  the  faith,  the  religion,  and  above  all  the  cus- 
toms of  those  among  whom  I  must  sojourn,  that  makes  our 
separation  for  a  time  needful.     In  that  land,  and  among 
that  people,  it  would  be  impossible  to  avoid  things  at 
which  you  would  shudder  more  than  at  the  carnage  of  a 
battle-field.      There,  no   such  thing  as  seclusion  exists. 
Every  one,  menj  women,  children,  and  even  strange  visitors 
sleep  in  the  same  cabin,  without  so  much  as  a  canvass 
screen  between -them.     Their  meals  are  all  in  common. 
The  women  cook  the  game  the  men  bring  in,  wash  and 
mend  the  coarse  garments  soiled  or  torn  in  the  chase.    Of 
Mahomet  they  have  never  heard,  and  would  very  likely 
laugh  at  you  whenever  you  attempted  to  go  through  your 
devotions.     They  would  intrude  upon  your  privacy  at  all 
hours,  and  without  the  slightest  ceremony      They  would 
expect  you  to  go  through  the  same  drudgery  to  which 
their  own  wives  and  daughters  are  accustomed.     All  this 
too  would  be  done  without  any  wanton  purpose  to  wound 
your  feelings,  without  a  suspicion  that  it  was  repugnant  or 
distasteful.  Yet  the  least  one  of  these  things  would  be  worse 
to  you  than  a  dagger's  wound.   I  have  seen,"  he  continued, 
lifting  her  jewelled  hand  from  the  arm  on  which  it  fondly 
rested,  "  I  have  seen  these  diamonds  flashing  around  the 
hilt  of  a  Turkish  yatagan,  and  it  seemed  to  me  not  inap- 


BERNARD     LILE.  23 

* 
propriate,  but  they  would  be  sadly  out  of  place  if  employed 

in  scrubbing  the  iron  frying  pan  of  a  western  settler. 

"  Why  go,  then,  Bernard  ;  why  mingle  at  all  with  these 
ill-mannered  savages  ?" 

"  Because  I  cannot  help  it.  It  is  written  in  the  book  of 
fate,  and  I  have  no  power  to  avoid  my  destiny.  A  great 
work  is  to  be  done.  The  instruments  are  rude  and  un- 
tutored, but  they  have  been  fitted  for  the  task  before  them 
by  danger  and  privation.  They  have  been  taught  in  a 
stern  school  the  needful  lessons  of  daring  and  endurance. 
They  are  now  about  to  begin  the  dismemberment  of  an 
empire,  whose  doom  has  been  pronounced  by  that  All-wise 
Being,  whom  you  and  I  worship  alike,  though  we  have 
accepted  different  prophets.  It  is  my  fate  to  carry  there 
that  superhuman  strength,  and  that  wonderful  skill  in  arms, 
which  was  given  for  higher  ends  than  those  I  have  hereto- 
fore pursued." 

He  ceased.  There  was  no  reply.  Like  all  of  her  faith, 
and  race,  she  was  an  undoubting  believer  in  destiny, 'and  to 
such  an  argument,  her  mind  was  prepared  with  no  answer. 
She  sighed  heavily — cast  her  eyes  upon  the  floor,  silently 
and  sadly  for  a  time,  then  threw  herself  upon  his  bosom, 
and  spoke  long  and  earnestly  in  some  far  foreign  tongue. 
Her  theme  was  not  the  trials  and  troubles  they  had  endured 
together.  She  spoke  not  of  their  early  separation,  of  the 
fears  that  agitated,  or  the  hopes  that  softened  the  parting 
hour.  It  was  of  love,  burning,  passionate,  present  love. 
Her  eyes  were  sparkling  with  a  light  not  of  earth — in  every 
radiant  feature  there  was  a  loveliness  beyond  that  of  Eve 
before  sin  had  visited  the  garden  of  Eden — her  voice  fell 
upon  the  ear  of  him  to  whom  she  clung,  in  tones  so  soft, 
so  low,  so  sweet,  that  it  seemed  the  breathings  of  an  angel 
choir,  and  his  strong  arm  pressed  her  to  a  breast  from 
which  beauty  and  music  had  for  a  time  chased  the  demon 
away. 


24  BERNARD     LILE. 


CHAPTER    II. 

"And  then  her  step,  as  light 

Along  the  unconscious  earth  she  went, 

Seemed  that  of  one  born  with  a  right 
To  walk  some  beavenlier  element; 

And  tread  in  places  were  her  feet 

A  star  at  every  step  should  meet." 

Two  days  had  passed  away,  and  on  the  third  morning,  a 
young  man,  clothed  in  the  uniform  of  a  Lieutenant  of  In- 
fantry, was  seated  at  a  writing-desk  in  one  of  the  large 
hotels  of  Washington.  He  had  evidently  been  long 
engaged  in  some  occupation  not  altogether  pleasing,  for  it 
had  cast  a  deep  shade  of  thought  over  features  otherwise 
femininely  beautiful.  It  was  not  anger,  nor  impatience, 
nor  sorrow;  but  rather  doubt,  perplexity,  anxiety.  It 
was  a  strange  expression  for  one  so  young — for  one  who 
ought  to  be  so  free  from  care — for  one  whose  proverbially 
light-hearted  profession,  rarely  encourages  the  indulgence 
of  any  grief,  except  that  of  manly  sorrow  over  a  comrade's 
bier.  There  is  an  open  letter  before  him,  perhaps  its 
pages  may  reveal  what  it  is  that  has  flung  the  shadow  on 
his  brow. 

"  A  strange,  wild  adventure  has  happened  to  me,  even 
here,  in  the  Federal  City,  Charles,  where  no  man  in  his 
senses  ever  imagined  that  anything  could  befal  a  young 
officer  on  leave,  of  sufficient  importance  to  fill  up  a  page 
in  a  letter  of  kind  remembrance  to  a  distant  friend.  While 
I  write,  I  almost  doubt  whether  I  am  awake  or  dreaming. 

"  More  than  once  I  have  laid  aside  the  pen,  walked  to 
the  window,  and  looked  out  upon  the  busy  street,  to  assure 
myself  that  no  troubled  slumber  had  raised  up  unreal 


BERNARD     LILE.  25 

visions  to  annoy  and  perplex  me.  The  broad  sun  is  look- 
ing down  as  usual  upon  this  human  ant-hill,  and  a  restless 
throng  of  insects  are  hurrying  to  and  fro,  urged  on  by 
motives  and  impulses  as  various  as  the  bodies  they  inhabit. 
I  am  awake.  No  spirit  from  the  land  of  dreams  has  been 
playing  delusive  pranks  with  imagination.  It  is  real,  all 
real.  When  you  read  my  story,  you  will  say  that  I  ought 
to  rejoice  ;  that  its  promises  are  all  tinted  with  the  rose ; 
and  so  my  reason  tells  me,  but  somehow  I  cannot  drive 
away  an  unaccountable  depression,  a  warning  of  approach- 
ing woe  and  danger. 

"  Three  days  ago  a  mere  accident  drew  me  to  a  gaming 
table.  I  lost  more  than  I  could  well  afford,  and  in  my 
anxiety  to  recover  it  staked  the  last  dollar  I  possessed. 
'  All  done  ?'  asked  the  cool  and  passionless  banker.  '  Turn 
on,'  was  the  response  of  the  betters.  He  did  turn  on,  and 
I  was  penniless.  I  left  the  table  utterly  ruined,  and  then, 
must  needs  make  a  still  greater  fool  of  myself,  by  swallow- 
ing large  draughts  of  brandy,  while  the  blood  was  already 
running  like  molten  lava  in  my  veins.  I  had  noticed  a 
gentleman  at  the  Faro  Bank  staking  immense  sums  upon 
the  most  desperate  odds,  yet  always  winning,  although  you 
would  have  judged  from  his  manner  that  he  was  scarcely 
thinking  of  the  game,  and  was  utterly  indifferent  whether 
he  won  or  lost.  When  I  left  the  table,  feeling  very  much 
like  digging  for  myself  an  unhonored  grave,  he  followed, 
and  commenced  a  series  of  questions  it  is  wonderful  I  did 
not  resent  as  impertinent.  There  was  about  him  an  air 
and  manner  which  impressed,  awed,  and  fascinated  me 
beyond  expression.  I  cannot  explain  to  you  the  feeling, 
but  it  seemed  as  if  he  had  the  power,  and  the  right,  to  con- 
trol and  govern  me  as  he  willed.  He  spoke  of  my  father, 
and  other  relatives — said  he  had  known  them  well  in  his 
youth,  and  finally  forced  me  to  accept,  as  a  loan,  a  sum  more 

3 


LILB. 


than  double  what  I  had  lost.   When  I  inquired  his  name,  he 
handed  me  a  card,  on  which  was  written  Bernard  Lile,  care 
of  Mons.  Evadne,  banker,  New  York.    At  the  same  time 
riving  me  to  understand  that  was  not  his  real  name,  but 
one  he  had  assumed  in  a  foreign  land.     You  will  not  be 
surprised  to  learn  that  this  singular  gentlemen  absorbe 
every  thought  for  the  remainder  of  the  night.     Morning 
found  me  resting  on  a  pillow  slumber  had  not  visited. 
appeared  to  have  known  my  family  so  well  ;  to  take  so 
deep  an  interest  in  my  welfare  ;  was  undeniably  so  gifted, 
as  well  as  so  rich.    Above  all,  there  was  about  him  that 
nameless  spell,  seldom  met  with  more  than  once  in  a  life- 
time, but  when  met  it  clings  to  the  memory,  defying  for- 
getfulness,  as  it  conquers  disobedience.     It  is  not  genius, 
nor  strength,  nor  courage,  but  the  three  combined,  drilled 
and  disciplined  by  experience,  and  governed  by  an  adaman- 
tine WILL  no  power  can  shake,  no  difficulty  embarrass. 
Every  word  he  uttered  ;  every  tone  of  his  voice  was  re- 
membered.    Every  time  I  closed  my  eyes,  in  vain  attempts 
to  sleep,  the  tall  form,  and  the  firm  martial  step  were 
painted  on  my  vision.     He  has  been  a  soldier,  I  know; 
and  I  shall  esteem  it  an  instance  of  good  fortune  if,  at  any 
time,  it  falls  to  my  lot  to  follow  such  a  leader  to  the  em- 
battled plain. 

"While  still  occupied  with  the  reflections  his  presence 
and  conduct  had  excited,  he  called  as  he  had  promised. 
After  a  few  unimportant  inquiries,  altogether  personal  to 
myself,  he  spoke  of  his  early  departure  from  the  city,  said, 
that  he  had  much  to  do  in  the  meantime,  but  he  could 
afford  to  trespass  for  an  hour  upon  other  engagements  for 
the  purpose  of  introducing  me  to  one  whose  acquaintance, 
he  trusted,  would  prove  both  agreeable  and  profitable.  I 
signified  my  readiness  to  accompany  him  of  course,  for  in 
truth  I  had  no  excuse  for  declining,  and  no  power  to  refuse 


BERNARD     LILE.  27 

if  a  thousand  excuses  had  been  at  hand.  Haughty,  impe- 
rious, self-willed,  as  I  am  represented  to  be,  I  believe  if 
that  man  had  told  me  to  stab  the  first  person  I  met  on  the 
street,  I  would  have  obeyed  him  on  the  instant.  On  the 
way  he  inquired  the  number  of  my  regiment,  and  where  it 
was  stationed.  He  looked  surprised  when  I  told  him  that 
it  was  scattered  in  various  directions,  with  scarcely  more 
than  a  single  company  at  a  point.  Addressing  me  again, 
after  a  brief  pause  he  said — 

" '  I  am  afraid  you  will  think  me  very  ignorant,  when  I 
inquire  the  strength  of  your  army  ;  but  you  must  remember 
that  I  have  been  long  a  stranger  here,  aud  know  less  of 
my  own  country  than  almost  any  other.' 

"  When  I  told  him  that  the  whole  infantry  force  of  the 
Union  consisted  of  eight  regiments,  he  exclaimed,  'Ah! 
is  that  all  ?'  then  added,  musingly,  '  eight  skeleton  regi- 
ments to  guard  a  mighty  empire  1  Why,  that  force  would 
scarcely  suffice  to  drive  the  robbers  from  the  mountains  to 
the  northward  of  Jerusalem.  Yet  even  there,  among  that 
rude  banditti,  I  have  never  heard  the  name-of  America  men- 
tioned without  respect.  Strange  land  ;  strange  people.  In 
the  old  world  the  means  employed  must  be  proportioned  to 
the  effect  sought  to  be  produced  ;  but  here  the  mightiest 
results  not  unfrequently  flow  from  the  most  insignificant 
causes.  A  dozen  men  with  axes  and  rifles  crossed  the 
Alleghanies,  and  an  empire  sprung  into  existence  as  if  by 
magic.  A  dozen  more,  with  the  same  implements,  crossed 
the  Mississippi,  and  another  empire  is  about  to  be  added 
to  the  Union.  The  snows  of  the  Rocky  Mountains  will 
next  be  passed,  and  the  Atlantic  joined  to  the  Pacific  by  a 
living  Anglo-Saxon  tide.  Every  day  reveals  some  new 
miracle,  and  the  tales  of  the  Arabian  Nights  are  surpassed 
by  the  reality.  Providence  has  appointed  a  great  work  to 
be  done,  and  it  may  be,  my  young  friend,  that  you  and  I 


2g  BERNARD     LILE. 

will  meet  hereafter,  in  a  field,  where  both  shall be  employed 
as  laborers.     "  But  who  is  worthy  to  open  the  book,  a, 
loosen  the  seals  thereof?"' 

"He  spoke  no  more,  but  walked  on,  absorbed  with  his 
•own  reflections,  and  apparently  unconscious  of  my  presence. 
We  soon  reached  a  house  in  one  of  the  upper  wards  of  the 
city.     Upon  the  door  he  gave  a  single  rap,  and  opening  H 
without  further  ceremony,  invited  me  to  enter.     We  were 
met  by  a  servant  in  the  entry,  to  whom  he   addressed  a 
question  in  a  language  I  did  not  understand.     Her  reply 
was  given  in  the  same  tongue :  when  it  was  received  he 
opened  another  door  with  as  little  ceremony  as  the  first.    I 
followed  him  to  the  threshold,  but  there  stopped,  spell- 
bound, and  absolutely  incapable  of  motion.     Rising  from 
a  work  stand,  where  she  had  been  engaged  in  some  femi- 
nine employment,  and  advancing  to  meet  us,  was  a  female 
of  such  surpassing  grace  and  beauty  that,  at  the  moment, 
I  fancied  she  had  descended  from  another  sphere.  Coming 
forward  with  the  light  springy  steps  of  the  antelope  she 
extended  her  hand  to  her  husband,  and  said,  in  a  voice 
clearer  and  sweeter  than  the  music  of  a  German  flute.' 
"  'And  this  is  your  young  friend,  Bernard  ?' 
" '  Even  so,  Zerah,  and,  as  you  have  saved  me  half  the 
trouble  of  an  introduction,  I  have  only  to  say  to  Mr.  Wil- 
son, that  this,'  laying  his  hand  upon  her  glossy  head,  'is 
my  young  bride.     The  only  thing  of  much  value  that  half 
a  lifetime  of  wandering  and  danger  has  brought  me.' 

"  She  extended  her  hand  with  a  frank  welcome.  I  took 
it  with  the  expression  of  a  hope  that  an  acquaintance 
promising  to  be  so  agreeable  might  not  soon  terminate. 

" '  Never  fear,  young  sir,  I  rarely  lose  sight  of  those  whom 
Bernard  loves.    You  are  much  more  likely  to  get  tired  of 
me  than  I  of  you.' 
"  I  said  something,  I  know  not  rightly  what.     I  tried  to 


BERNARD     LILE.  29 

be  gallant ;  very  possibly  I  was  only  foolish.  She  motioned 
me  to  a  seat,  and  in  a  little  while  we  were  engaged  in  a  con- 
versation upon  the  ordinary  topics  of  the  day.  But  every 
sound  of  that  voice  thrilled  through  me  like  an  electric 
flash,  and  every  glance  of  that  dark  eye  wakened  emotions 
wild  and  new.  It  was  not  admiratidn ;  that  word  expresses 
not  one  tenth  part  of  what  I  felt.  It  was  not  love ;  that  I 
knew  would  be  madness.  The  woman  who  had  once  given 
her  heart  to  him  she  called  husband,  would  shudder  at  the 
far  off  footsteps  of  another  passion.  It  was  not  adoration  ; 
for  there  was  much  about  her  to  remind  you  of  earth.  I 
know  not  what  it  was,  and  can  only  describe  it  as  a  fascina- 
tion that  won  and  enchained  me  until  I  lost  all  feeling,  all 
desire,  but  that  of  rendering  myself  pleasing  to  the  enchan- 
tress whose  spell  was  upon  me. 

"It  was  not  very  long  before  Mr.  Lile  rose,  and  remarking 
that  he  had  something  to  show  me  that  might  be  of  interest 
to  a  soldier,  led  the  way  out  of  the  apartment.  '  This, 'he 
said,  as  he  opened  the  door  of  another  room,  '  is  my  small 
armory.'  It  was  hung  round  with  guns  of  every  descrip- 
tion, and  style  of  workmanship.  Swords,  daggers  and 
pistols.  The  collection  was  a  rich  and  curious  one.  I 
did  not  fail  to  express  the  surprise  I  felt,  adding  that  it 
must  have  been  gathered  at  great  cost,  as  well  as  trouble. 

"  '  No,'  he  replied  '  they  are  the  weapons  of  the  countries 
in  which  I  have  been  a  sojourner,  and  were  collected  one 
by  one  without  much  cost  or  trouble.  This,'  he  continued, 
taking  down  a  richly  mounted  cimeter,  'belonged  to  a 
Mameluke  officer  who  tried  the  experiment  of  shortening 
my  stature  by  a  head,  and  lost  his  weapon  in  the  effort.  It 
is  a  pretty  blade,  and  a  dangerous  one,  but  it  requires  a 
skilful  hand  to  wield  it.  Strength  avails  nothing ;  it  is  all 
skill  and  practice. ' 

"  '  So  saying,  he  drew  the  bright  and  glittering  steel  from 
3* 


30  BERNARD     LILE. 

the  scabbard,  and  turning  to  where  a  large  nail  was  driven 
in  the  planking  of  the  room,  severed  it  at  a  blow.  So.ad- 
mirably  was  the  blade  tempered  that  the  iron  made  no 
impression  upon  it,  and  I  found  it,  along  its  whole  length, 
smooth  and  keen  as  before. 

"  Before  returning  the  cimeter,  I  made  several  inquiries 
as  to  the  manner  of  tempering  steel  in  the  East.  Spoke 
of  the  fact,  that  our  mechanics  had  never  been  able  to 
attain  such  high  perfection  in  the  art,  and  incidentally 
alluded  to  the  feats  of  Saladin,  as  described  by  Sir  Walter 

Scott. 

"  '  I  doubt,'  he  replied,  '  if  that  story  was  altogether  an 
invention.  In  all  its  essential  parts  it  was  probably  true. 
Sir  Walter  only  transferred  to  the  Sultan  a  dexterity  pos- 
sessed by  hundreds  of  his  subjects.  Still  I  like  not  the 
weapon ;  for  a  downright  blow  on  the  battle  field  it  is 
useless.  Here  is  something  that  suits  me  better.' 

"  The  sword  thus  indicated,  was  shaped  very  much  after 
the  fashion  of  the  British  artillery  sabre,  but  longer,  and 
more  than  twice  the  weight  of  any  I  had  ever  seen.  It 
occurred  to  me,  that  no  human  arm  could  wield  that  pon- 
derous blade  for  any  length  of  time.  He  must  have  divined 
my  thoughts,  for  he  said,  as  he  took  it  from  my  hand, 

" '  I  had  it  made  to  suit  myself.  It  is  too  heavy  for  most 
men,  but  I  find  no  difficulty  in  using  it.  Besides  its  weight, 
the  temper  is  just  as  admirable  as  yon  Damascus  cimeter, 
and  with  ordinary  force  will  easily  cleave  through  greater 
obstacles  than  a  rusty  nail,' 

"  We  now  passed  on  to  a  rack  where  his  pistols  were  sus- 
pended. He  made  some  remarks  upon  each,  indicative  of 
the  place  of  its  manufacture,  or  the  manner  it  was  obtained. 
Near  the  end  of  the  rack  he  took  down  one  of  Colt's 
revolvers. 


BERNARD     LILE.  31 

"  '  This,'  he  said,  '  is  of  native  growth,  and  for  service  is 
worth  all  the  others  together.' 

"  '  Do  you  value  it  so  highly  V 

"  l  It  is  impossible  to  value  it  too  highly.  Revolving 
guns  have  been  known  for  a  hundred  years,  but  they  were 
so  clumsily  constructed  as  to  be  worthless.  This  is  a  dif- 
ferent affair.  It  is  capable  of  great  improvement,  and  no 
doubt  will  be  greatly  improved  by  its  inventor,  if  he  be  the 
man  of  genius  his  past  achievements  indicate ;  but  even 
now,  without  further  alteration,  I  have  seen  nothing  to 
equal  or  approach  it.' 

"  My  attention  was  now  directed  to  a  full  length  portrait 
of  my  host,  hanging  against  the  wall,  at  the  extremity  of 
the  room.  He  was  dressed  in  a  rich  foreign  garb ;  the 
long  heavy  sabre  I  had  just  been  examining  was  in  his 
hand,  the  point  resting  on  the  earth,  while  at  his  feet  was 
the  figure  of  a  man,  evidently  a  vanquished  and  pardoned 
enemy,  who  was  apparently  rising  slowly  and  painfully 
from  the  ground,  where  he  had  been  hurled.  Underneath 
were  the  words : 

"  That  mercy  I  to  others  show, 
That  mercy  show  to  me." 

"  Both  of  us  stopped  and  regarded  the  painting  in 
silence.  What  was  passing  through  his  mind  I  know  not. 
Mine  was  filled  with  many  thoughts.  I  wandered  away, 
in  imagination,  to  the  distant  clime  where  the  words  of 
forgiveness  had  followed  the  deadly  struggle.  A  new  phase 
had  exhibited  itself  in  the  character  of  my  new  acquaint- 
ance. Mercy  clothed  him  with  her  downy  mantle  and  my 
heart  yearned  towards  the  strong  man,  as  to  a  gentle  and 
loving  brother.  His  voice  broke  a  reverie,  pleasing  enough 
to  make  me  wish  it  longer. 

"  '  That  is  Zerah's  work.     It  records  an  incident  which 


BEENAED     LILE. 

affected  her  greatly,  and  that  picture  was  painted  to  per- 
petuate its  memory.  You  see,  also,  that  she  is  not  unac- 
quainted with  our  English  classics ;  though  she  little 
dreams  from  whence  Pope  borrowed  the  sentiment.' 

"  I  ventured  to  say,  '  I  was  not  aware  it  had  been 
borrowed.' 

" '  Because  you  have  never  taken  the  trouble  to  think 
about  the  matter  at  all.  You  have  repeated  the  original, 
I  dare  say,  hundreds  of  times,  Forgive  us  our  trespasses, 
as  we  forgive  those  who  trespass  against  us.  In  my 
opinion,  the  alteration  has  marred  its  beauty.  But  come, 
Zerah  brooks  no  neglect,  and  we  must  return  to  her  now, 
if  we  would  find  that  angel -face  as  radiant  as  we' left  it.' 

"  '  She  is  indeed  an  angel.' 

" '  Yes  1  and  the  more  lovable  for  the  strong  human 
passions  which  inhabit  that  exquisite  form.' 

"  We  found  the  lovely  mistress  of  the  mansion  looking 
over  the  pages  of  a  richly  bound  volume.  It  was  laid 
aside  immediately  on  our  entrance.  The  conversation 
that  ensued  was  far  from  gay,  but  it  was  cheerful,  and  left 
none  but  pleasant  impressions  behind.  When  I  rose  to 
depart,  he  took  my  hand,  and,  speaking  warmly,  and  kindly, 
bade  me  remember  '  that  he  had  left  an  address  in  my  pos- 
session, and  that  he  expected  me  to  apply  to  Monsieur 
Evadne  in  case  any  of  the  trials  incident  to  youth  should 
overtake  me.' 

'"I  did  not  bring  you  here,'  he  continued,  'for  the 
trifling  purpose  of  an  hour's  conversation,  or  the  still  more 
trifling  one  of  exhibiting  the  toys  you  have  just  been  ex- 
amining. I  am  going  on  a  long  journey,  and  shall  not  be 
here  to  assist  you,  if  you  should  need  assistance,  but  a 
letter  addressed  to  Monsieur  Evadne  will  reach  Zerah,  and 
you  must  be  in  a  sore  strait  if  she  does  not  find  the  means 
of  relieving  you.' 


BERNARD     LILE.  33 

"  I  thanked  him  earnestly  for  his  kindness,  and  in  my 
turn  proffered  any  assistance  I  could  render  his  wife  during 
his  absence. 

"'My  dear  sir,'  was  the  reply,  '  Zerah  is  a  genuine 
Moslem.  She  goes  to  no  plays — no  parties — no  places  of 
public  amusement.  She  never  leaves  her  own  door  without 
being  closely  veiled.  She  does  not  understand,  and  would 
not  accept  the  courtesies  so  common  among  us,  and  so 
grateful  to  a  lady  mingling  in  American  society.  In  all 
else  she  is  provided  for.  She  can  command  those  who  are 
both  shrewd  and  worldly,  and  whose  interest  it  is  to  be 
faithful,  obedient,  and  honest.  Leave  her  your  address, 
and  keep  Evadne  advised  of  your  whereabouts.  She  will 
send  for  you  if  she  needs  you,  and  fail  not  on  your  part  to 
apply  to  her. ' 

"  He  dropped  my  hand.  His  wife  advanced,  and  gave 
me  hers.  I  heard  the  tones  of  that  silvery  voice,  and  knew 
it  was  a  blessing  she  invoked,  but  the  words  were  lost  in 
the  music  that  gave  them  utterance.  I  raised  the  little 
hand  respectfully  to  my  lips,  and  turned  away.  In  another 
moment  the  door  had  closed  between  me  and  the  friends  I 
had  found  so  strangely,  and  parted  from  so  suddenly. 

"  You  cannot  conceive  the  strength  of  the  impression 
they  have  made  upon  me.  One  or  the  other  is  incessantly 
rising  up  before  me.  Sometimes  it  is  the  man ;  mysterious, 
incomprehensible.  With  his  wonderful  powers  of  mind 
and  body ;  his  marble  face,  calm,  unruffled,  cold,  still  and 
passionless.  Speaking  always  in  a  voice  of  unconscious 
command,  and  hiding  every  emotion  without  seeming 
effort.  Once  only  did  I  detect  any  change  in  his  impassa- 
ble features.  "When  he  raised  that  heavy  sabre,  and  let  his 
eye  glance  along  the  polished  blade,  there  was  a  flash  that 
told  of  the  volcano  slumbering  within.  Then  again,  the 
vision  changes,  and  his  wife  appears  in  her  supernatural 


84  BERNARD     LILE. 

beauty ;  looking  as  if  she  had  just  descended  from  above, 
and  had  not  remained  on  earth  long  enough  to  soil  her 
satin  slipper.  The  melody  of  her  last  adieu  is  even  now 
floating  around  me,  and  never  did  Cherub,  or  Cherubim, 
utter  notes  more  enchanting.  Who  are  they  ?  What  can 
they  be  ?  Ask  among  the  old  men  in  the  neighborhood  if 
they  remember  any  one  to  whom  my  description  will  apply. 
I  dared  not  asked  him  more  than  he  chose  to  tell ;  but  a 
curiosity  has  been  awakened  which  must  be  satisfied. 
Write  at  once  and  let  me  know  what  you  can  find  out. 

"ROBERT  WILSON." 

Poor  boy  I  how  little  he  knew  his  own  heart !  How 
ignorant  he  was  of  the  dreadful  precipice  on  whose  out- 
most verge  he  was  standing.  Not  love  the  woman  who 
had  so  captivated  his  fancy !  Not  love  her  1  and  be- 
cause he  was  hopeless  of  a  return.  Oh  !  what  a  low  and 
earthy  thing  would  love  be,  if  it  could  be  cramped  by  such 
boundaries.  If  hearts  were  put  up  in  the  market,  bargained 
and  bartered  for,  like  silk  or  sandal  wood,  in  the  marts  of 
Arabia.  If  the  young  are  to  go  out,  with  triple  armor 
round  their  bosoms,  saying  to  the  beautiful  and  the  good, 
I  have  a  heart  hidden  somewhere  within  me  that  I  am 
willing  to  dispose  of,  but  I  must  first  know  what  I  am  to 
receive  in  return.  If  you  will  give  me  an  assurance  that 
yours  is  to  be  trafficked  for,  I  will  take  off  this  outward 
covering,  exhibit  mine,  and  begin  to  arrange  the  terms  of 
an  exchange.  This  is  not  the  passion  whose  celestial  birth 
has  been  sung  in  every  land  where  the  letters  of  Cadmus 
have  penetrated ;  not  the  passion  that  exalts,  informs,  and 
purifies  our  nature  till  we  become  in  truth,  but  a  "  little 
lower  than  the  angels."  Love,  genuine  love,  comes  un- 
bidden, and  remains,  uninvited.  No  matter  what  difficul- 
ties may  surround  it  —  no  matter  if  Hope  never*  put 


BERNARD     LILE.  35 


forth  its  leaves,  or  putting  them  forth,  they  had  early 
sickened  and  died,  still  it  lives  on,  changeless  among  the 
changeful  —  immortal  amid  the  dying.  Who  that  has 
looked  from  a  high  balcony  upon  a  garden  of  roses,  ever 
stopped  to  inquire  if  he  could  pluck  the  flower  before 
admiring  its  beauty.  Shall  a  higher  sentiment,  the  highest 
that  has  winged  its  way  from  its  natal  home  beyond  the 
stars,  be  driven  shuddering  back  by  the  cold  calculations 
of  a  peddling  trader.  No,  oh,  no  !  We  are  bad  enough ; 
the  fruits  of  the  forbidden  tree  have  not  all  been  gathered, 
but  neither  has  the  atonement  been  in  vain ;  and  Robert 
Wilson  penned  a  libel  on  himself  when  he  wrote  that  he 
could  not  love  Zerah  Lile,  because  he  knew  she  loved 
another.  He  did  more ;  he  lulled  himself  into  security 
when  the  outposts  of  the  citadel  were  taken,  and  its  inner 
defences  fearfully  weakened.  He  who  continues  to  read 
these  pages  will  have  occasion  to  remember  his  self-decep- 
tion, and  to  note  its  consequences.  What  answer  was 
returned  to  his  inquiries  in  relation  to  the  husband,  is 
unknown.  It  is  very  improbable  that  he  obtained  the 
information  he  sought.  Time,  war,  toil,  and  suffering,  are 
no  gentle  playmates.  In  all  things  they  work  changes 
inward  and  outward.  The  boy  of  twenty  is  often  no  more 
like  the  man  of  forty,  than  the  lamb  of  the  hill-side  resem- 
bles the  tiger  of  the  jungles.  Whatever  had  been  the 
Bernard  Lile  of  yesterday,  it  was  not  the  Bernard  Lile  of 
to-day.  That  very  calmness,  no  fear,  no  love,  no  hate,  no 
astonishment  ever  chased  away,  only  betrayed  the  ordeal 
he  had  passed.  He  had  conquered,  and  was  master  of 
himself,  but  the  victory  had  cost  him  dear,  and  the  traces 
of  the  struggle  would  remain  forever. 


BERNARD     LILE. 


CHAPTER    III. 

"This  should  hare  been  a  noble  creature  :  he 
Hath  all  the  energy  which  would  have  made 
A  goodly  frame  of  glorious  elements, 
Had  they  been  wisely  managed." 

IN  the  year  1835,  there  stood  upon  the  bank  of  the  Mis- 
sissippi, near  the  mouth  of  the  Arkansas  river,  a  rude 
collection  of  log  cabins,  intended  for  the  accommodation 
of  the  hunters  of  that  wild  region,  and  of  the  gamblers 
who  congregated  there,  for  the  purpose  of  cheating  these 
sons  of  the  forest  out  of  the  hard  earnings  of  the  chase. 
At  that  period  there  were  floating  on  every  boat,  and 
infesting  every  landing  place  along  the  entire  length  of  the 
"  Great  Father  of  Waters,"  a  class  of  men,  now  happily 
passing  away,  whose  sole  business  it  was  to  cheat  the  inex- 
perienced and  the  unsuspecting  of  whatever  money  or 
produce  they  might  possess.  Generally  of  good  manners 
and  insinuating  address,  with  an  extensive  knowledge  of 
human  nature  ;  liberal  to  profusion  when  their  ever-  varying 
fortunes  permitted  liberality  ;  equally  ready  for  a  fray  or  a 
feast  ;  it  was  difficult  to  avoid  their  companionship,  and  to 
become  a  companion  was  almost  certainly  to  become  a 
victim.  Among  their  most  favored  resorts  was  the  landing 
to  which  allusion  has  been  made.  Here  came  the  hunter 
when  the  chase  was  done;  and  here  came  the  trader  to 
barter  for  his  furs  and  peltries.  The  gambler  looked  upon 
both  as  pigeons  to  be  plucked,  and  it  mattered  little  to  him 
who  was  subjected  to  the  operation.  His  object  was  to 
obtain  money  to  squander  in  the  sensual  indulgences  of 
the  cities  on  the  great  river  and  its  tributaries.  To  do  him 


BERNAEDLILE.  87 

justice,  he  never  thought  of  the  wide  misery  he  sometimes 
inflicted.  He  took  no  account  of  agents  defrauding  their 
employers  to  obtain  "a  stake,"  or  of  families  deprived  of 
the  common  necessaries  of  life  by  his  skilful  manipulations. 
Place  immediately  before  his  eyes  a  case  of  poverty  or  of 
suffering,  and  he  was  much  more  ready  to  relieve  it  with  his 
purse,  than  many  of  those  whose  charities  not  unfrequently 
find  a  place  in  the  newspapers.  Often  blackened  by  other 
vices,  careless  of  public  opinion,  lost  to  the  sense  of  shame, 
there  was  still  one  green  spot  in  his  heart,  and  the  needy 
never  applied  to  him  in  vain  if  he  had  the  means  to  relieve 
them.  Nor  were  other  virtues  wanting ;  springing  among 
thorns  and  branches — choked  and  cramped  it  is  true,  but 
virtues  nevertheless.  If  we  could  read  the  private  history 
of  one.  gambler's  life ;  if  we  could  trace  each  step  of  his 
downward  progress;  realize  the  allurements  that  enticed, 
the  temptations  that  beset  him,  we  should  doubtless  find 
much  in  the  record  to  demand  both  pity  and  forgiveness. 
They  do  not  .spring  into  the  world  full-fledged  and  ready  to 
prey  upon  their  kind.  Nine  times  in  ten  they  are  victims 
before  they  become  plunderers.  All  are  not  thoroughly 
bad,  but  it  is  well  for  the  young  to  remember,  that  all  who 
indulge  in  such  practices,  are  liable  to  become  so — all  are 
certain  to  give  great  pain  where  they  little  dream  of  inflict- 
ing it,  and  all  are  certain  to  be  sufferers  themselves. 

It  was  night.  A  clear,  star- light  night,  with  just  enough 
frost  in  the  air  to  make  the  large  wood-fire  blazing  in  the 
front  cabin  pleasant  and  comfortable.  Around  the  fire 
were  grouped  six  or  seven  stalwart  hunters,  watching  with 
eager  interest  a  game  of  "  seven  up,"  going  on  between  one 
of  their  number  and  a  man  whose  profusion  of  ruffles  and 
ornaments,  indicated  his  profession  as  plainly  as  if  it  had 
been  written  on  his  brow.  In  a  corner  sat  an  individual 
who  was  paying  but  little  attention  to  the  game,  casting 

4 


38  BERNARD     LILB. 

only  an  occasional  glance  at  the  players,  and  then  turning 
his  eyes  again  to  the  blazing  logs  on  the  hearth  stone.  He 
wore  the  air  and  manner  of  a  stranger  whose  stay  in  the 
place  had  probably  been  caused  by  one  of  those  accidents 
common  to  travellers.  To  complete  the  picture,  the  land- 
lord was  leaning  with  his  elbows  upon  a  rude  counter, 
dignified  with  the  name  of  a  bar ;  dividing  his  time  pretty 
equally  between  marking  the  points  of  the  game,  and  puf- 
fing at  the  corn-cob  pipe  he  held  between  his  lips. 

"  How  is  the  game,  Williams  ?"  said  the  gambler,  turn- 
ing to  his  host. 

"You  are  five  to  his  four." 

"Then  I  beg." 

"I  give,"  said  the  hunter,  who  had  dealt  the  cards. 

"  That  makes  six,  and  here's  the  low  spot,  showing  the 
lowest  trump,  which  puts  me  out." 

"The  game  is  closed,"  was  the  commentary  of  the  hun- 
ter, as  he  rose  from  his  seat.  "  J'm  busted!" 

The  gambler  rose  also,  and  carelessly  putting  the  stakes 
in  his  waistcoat  pocket,  remarked  to  those  around, — 

"Well  boys,  as  I'm  in^luck  to-night,  I'll  stand  treat. 
Williams,  give  us  some  of  that  real  old  Bourbon — none  of 
your  Tennessee  bald-face.  Stranger,"  turning  to  the  tra- 
veller in  the  corner,  "  won't  you  join  us." 

The  invitation  was  coldly,  but  politely  declined. 

"  Well,  no  harm  done.  You  lost  that  last  game,  Tom 
Simpson,"  addressing  his  late  adversary,  "  by  begging  on 
the  first  hand.  I  had  narry  trump,  and  if  you  had  stood 
on  the  Jack,  I  was  bound  to  be  beaten." 

"  No  matter  how  it  was  lost,"  replied  Simpson,  with  a 
knit  brow  and  a  clenched  hand,  it's  lost ;  and  the  money 
has  gone  into  your  pocket,  like  all  the  rest  I  have  made  for 
the  last  five  years.  But,"  he  continued,  striking  the  counter 
with  a  force  that  made  the  bottles  and  glasses  jingle,  "look 


BERNARD     LILE.  39 

out,  Jim  Black,  I  know  you  are  none  too  good  to  cheat. 
I  believe  you  have  been  cheating  me  all  along,  and  if  ever 
I  catch  you  at  that  game,  I'll  drive  my  knife  through  your 
heart  in  less  than  half  a  minute  afterwards." 

"  There  is  no  use  in  talking  that  way,  Tom.  I  know  it 
as  well  as  you  do ;  and  you  needn't  be  telling  a  fellow  of 
it  every  time  you  see  him.  Just  wait  'til  you  catch  me." 

"  I  will ;  but,  by  God,  when  I  do  catch  you,  you  won't 
have  many  seconds  to  say  your  prayers." 

Black  was  a  man  of  dauntless  courage,  which  the  ener- 
vating effects  of  a  life  of  debauchery  and  licentiousness  had 
failed  to  subdue.  Looking  calmly  into  the  face  of  the 
fierce  and  powerful  man  who  confronted  him,  he  replied, — 

"Well,  Tom,  I  hope  to  have  the  pleasure  of  drinking 
your  health  very  frequently  before  that  time  comes.  Here's 
to  you,  old  fellow,  better  luck  the  next  time,  if  it  is  to  my 
cost,"  and  he  drained  his  glass  to  the  bottom. 

The  stranger,  who  had  listened  to  the  foregoing  conver- 
sation, with  far  more  attention  than  he  had  bestowed  upon 
anything  going  on  around  him,  now  rose  from  his  seat,  and 
approaching  Black,  inquired, 

"  Is  it  true  that  you  have  been  playing  cards  with  this 
man  for  years,  with  the  full  knowledge  that  your  life  was, 
every  moment,  in  imminent  peril  from  his  suspicions  ?" 

"  Why,  yes  I  Everybody  knows  Tom  Simpson  is  much 
more  likely  to  cut  a  throat  than  to  talk  about  it  But  I 
trust  a  good  deal  to  my  luck,  and  a  good  deal  more  to 
skill  and  coolness." 

"  Now,  this  is  something  I  call  worth  living  for,"  said 
the  stranger,  earnestly.  "I  never  expected  to  envy  a 
human  being,  but  I  do  envy  you,  sir.  I  would  give  fifty 
thousand  dollars  for  one  week  of  such  excitement." 

Simpson's  brow  grew  darker,  and  his  eye  flashed  with  a 
deadlier  light.  Stung  by  his  losses — almost  maddened  by 


40  BERNARD     LILE. 

the  conviction  that  he  had  been  cheated,  and  was  unable  to 
detect  it :  he  was  exactly  in  the  condition  to  quarrel  with 
any  body,  or  on  any  pretext.  Laying  his  hand  firmly  on 
the  shoulder  of  the  last  speaker,  he  growled  rather  than 

said. 

"  So  you  think  there  would  be  something  funny  in  having 
Tom  Simpson's  knife  pointed  at  your  heart.  By  the  Lord 
God  you  had  better  try  it." 

There  was  a  dead  silence  in  the  room.  The  giant 
strength  and  desperate  character  of  the  backwoodsman 
were  known  to  all ;  and  each  one  held  his  breath  with  the 
conviction  that  very  soon  the  floor  would  be  stained  with 
murder.  The  stranger  alone  was  unmoved.  Not  a  shade 
passed  over  his  marble  face.  For  an  instant  the  dull, 
sleepy  look  vanished  from  his  dark  hazel  eye,  and  a  flash 
as  vivid  as  the  lightning  took  its  place.  But  it  was  for  an 
instant  only.  Calmly  lifting  the  strong  man's  hand  from 
his  shoulder,  he  said,  slowly  and  sternly. 

"  I  should  indeed  like  to  make  the  experiment,  if  I  did 
not  know  it  would  be  useless.  You  are  no  match  for  me 
— have  no  power  to  harm  me,  and  there  could  be  little  ex- 
citement in  a  struggle,  when  I  know  before  hand  how  it 
must  result." 

"  You  think  so,  do  you  ?"  howled  Simpson,  aiming  a 
blow  at  the  head  of  his  antagonist  that  would  have  pros- 
trated an  ox. 

Quick  as  thought,  the  arm  of  the  infuriated  hunter  was 
knocked  up,  and  the  next  instant  he  was  hurled,  as  if 
driven  from  a  catapult,  into  the  extreme  corner  of  the 
room.  A  yell  of  rage  and  pain  escaped  him  as  he  rose 
from  the  floor,  and  drawing  his  knife,  he  sprang  with  the 
bound  of  a  tiger  towards  his  foe.  With  the  right  foot 
thrown  back,  the  left  knee  slightly  bent,  and  the  left  hand 
raised  to  the  height  of  the  elbow,  that  foe  awaited  his 


BERNARD     LILE.  41 

coming,  watching  every  motion  with  a  lynx's  eye.  The 
broad,  bright  blade  rose  on  high,  glittering  in  the  light  of 
the  fire  with  a  sickly  bluish  glare — it  descended,  but  not 
on  the  bosom  at  which  it  was  aimed.  The  arm  that  held 
•it  was  enclosed  in  an  iron  grasp,  and  Simpson  dragged 
froward  with  a  sudden  jerk,  lay  upon  the  floor,  stunned  and 
senseless.  Instantly  springing5  upon  his  prostrate  enemy, 
and  drawing  his  arms  forcibly  behind  him,  the  stranger 
bound  them  fast  with  his  silken  handkerchief.  Then  taking 
a  leathern  thong  from  the  wall  where  it  was  hanging,  he 
proceeded  deliberately  to  fasten  his  feet  in  the  same  man- 
ner. When  this  was  accomplished  he  rose  from  the  body 
and  quietly  remarked, 

"  There,  sir,  I  do  not  think  it  will  take  long  for  you  to 
get  cool  in  that  fix." 

All  this  had  happened  so  suddenly,  that  not  one  of  the 
spectators  had  time  to  utter  a  word  or  raise  a  hand  to 
interfere.  Now,  that  it  was  over,  they  turned  their  eyes 
from  the  prostrate  hunter,  with  wonder  and  awe  to  the 
seemingly  passionless  victor.  He  had  resumed  his  seat 
with  as  much  composure  as  if  the  terrible  conflict  he  had 
provoked  was  the  mere  pastime  of  children  ;  and  was  again 
gazing  into  the  fire  with  the  same  half-sleepy,  half-abstracted 
look  he  had  worn  during  the  earlier  part  of  the  evening. 
Simpson,  who  had  now  recovered  partially  from  the  stun- 
ning effects  of  his  fall,  was  regarding  his  late  antagonist 
with  a  look  of  mingled  astonishment  and  curiosity. 

"  Stranger,"  said  he  in  a  tone  no  longer  indicative  of 
passion  or  defiance,  "  will  you  tell  me  what  is  your  name, 
and  where  you  hail  from  ?" 

"  My  name  is  Bernard  Lile.  No  matter  where  I  came 
from.  It  is  enough  that  I  am  an  American." 

"  Thank  you  for  the  information.  I  rather  think,"  he 
continued,  "  I  have  come  out  second  best  in  this  skrimmage, 
4* 


42  BERNARD     LILE. 

and  may  as  well  own  up.  I'm  licked  bodyaciously,  out 
and  out,  and  since  I've  acknowledged  the  corn,  you  might 
as  well  untie  these  knots.  This  is  not  exactly  a  feather 
bed  I'm  lying  on,  and  my  shoulder  is  burning  as  if  a  hun- 
dred red  hot  spindles  were  stuck  in  it." 

Without  a  word  Lile  rose,  and  removed  the  shackles 
from  the  prostrate  huntsman.  Then  placing  one  hand 
above,  and  the  other  below  the  shoulder  joint,  he  pressed 
it  with  considerable  force.  The  examination  satisfied  him 
that  no  great  harm  was  done,  for  he  turned  away,  saying, 

"  It  is  not  out  of  joint,  it  is  only  sprained.  Bub  it  well 
with  camphor — I  suppose  that  is  the  best  thing  you  can 
get  here — and  it  will  be  well  in  a  day  or  two." 

The  landlord  had  no  camphor.  "Then  give  me  some 
whiskey,"  exclaimed  Simpson,  "  and  rub  it  in  hard.  Jim 
Black  will  pay  for  the  sperits  out  of  the  money  he  has  won 
from  me." 

"Certainly,"  assented  the  gambler.  "Not  only  that,  I 
will  make  you  a  poultice  to-night,  and  insure  it  to  take  the 
soreness  out  by  breakfast  to-morrow." 

The  momentary  awe  created  by  the  sudden  conflict,  and 
its  almost  miraculous  termination  was  at  an  end.  Scenes 
of  peril  and  blood  were  too  familiar  to  all  present  to  drive 
away,  for  any  length  of  time,  their  accustomed  cheerfulness. 
The  bottle  circulated  freely  among  them,  and  many  a  wild 
story  of  hair-breadth  escapes  from  the  Indians,  or  the  wild 
beasts,  filled  up  the  intervals.  Simpson  was  standing  at 
the  counter,  his  brawny  chest  and  sinewy  arms  laid  bare, 
while  his  host  was  rubbing  his  shoulder,  with  a  hand  as 
hard  and  horny  as  the  skin  of  the  alligator. 

"I  say,  Tom,"  said  he  in  a  whisper,  pouring  on  at  the 
same  time  a  fresh  supply  of  whiskey,  "  that  was  a  bad  fight 
you  picked  up." 

"Bad!    J  think  it  was,"  replied  Simpson,  through  his 


BERNARD     LILE.  43 

ground  teeth,  "  Do  you  know  there  is  but  one  thing  keeps 
me  from  believing  that  fellow  is  the  devil." 

"What  is  that?"  ' -,*  , 

"  Why,  if  it  was  Old  Nick  himself,  I  am  almost  sure  he 
would  have  been  off  to  hell  with  Jim  Black  before  this. 
Still  I  don't  understand  how  anything  of  flesh  and  blood, 
could  jerk  my  knife  from  my  hand,  without  getting  a 
scratch,  and  then  tie  me  fast,  hand  and  foot,  in  less  time 
than  it  takes  to  tell  it. " 

"  Nor  I  neither,  Tom.  I  thought  you  was  a  long  ways 
the.best  man  on  the  Mississippi." 

"  I  would  have  sworn  it,  Williams,  at  the  drop  of  a  hat. 
Why,  it  was  only  last  week  that  I  caught  a  half-grown 
panther  by  the  throat,  and  choked  the  critter  lifeless  before 
it  could  do  more  than  tear  the  clothes,  and  a  little  of  the 
hide  off  my  arm  and  breast.  Yet  this  fellow  comes  along 
here  and  handles  me  as  if  I  was  a  ten-year  old  'boy.  I 
don't  understand  it,  and  I  never  shall." 

By  this  time  Black  had  returned  with  the  poultice. 
Bidding  Williams  spread  down  a  buffalo  skin,  he  applied 
it  carefully  and  skilfully  to  the  battered  shoulder  of  his 
patient. 

"  There,"  he  said,  as  the  last  ligature  was  fastened, 
"  all's  right.  Now  lie  down  and  be  quiet. " 

"  I  will,  Jim,  though  its  nigh  about  the  only  thing  in 
which  I  would  like  to  follow  your  advice.  They  tell  me 
you  were  a  doctor  before  women  and  cards  got  into  your 
head,  and  made  you  the  devil's  imp  that  you  are.  At  any 
rate  you  cured  me  once  before  of  a  worse  hurt  than  this, 
and  it  may  be  that  same  thing  has  more  than  once  kept  my 
knife  from  between  your  ribs." 

"  May  be  so,"  replied  the  gambler,  carelessly,  "  but  it  is 
not  dead  certain.  I  do  not  think  I  could  have  got  out  of 
the  scrape  as  easily  as  that  fellow  yonder  did ;  still  it  is  no 


44  BERNARD     LILE. 

five  to  one  bet  that  every  one  who  undertakes  it  is  going  to 
kill  me  first. " 

So  saying,  he  turned  on  his  heel  and  walked  away. 

Before  the  first  light  of  the  morning  had  gilded  the  east, 
the  hunters  had  taken  their  way  to  the  forest,  and  none  ap- 
peared at  the  breakfast  table  but  Lile,  Simpson  and  Black. 
Bear  meat  and  venison  steaks  were  smoking  on  the  board, 
with  excellent  corn-bread,  butter  and  milk.  There  was, 
also,  something  called  coffee,  but  it  was  muddier  than  the 
water  of  the  Mississippi  of  which  it  was  made.  The  biscuit 
resembled  in  shape  and  size  the  mud  turtle,  so  common  in 
the  creeks  and  bayous  of  the  South.  In  Mr.  Black's 
opinion,  however,  it  was  a  breakfast  "  not  to  be  sneezed 
at ;"  and  either  the  others  agreed  with  him,  or  their  appe- 
tites were  something  of  the  sharpest.  Conversation  there 
was  none  ;  unless  a  brief  question,  now  and  then,  and  a 
still  more  brief  reply,  could  be  called  conversation.  Be- 
tween these  three  men  there  could  be  little  in  common,  and 
neither  thought  fit  to  manifest  any  particular  interest  in  the 
affairs  of  his  companions.  What  the  future  might  reveal, 
what  antagonism,  or  what  friendships  it  might  establish, 
was  unknown,  and  very  probably  uncared  for.  When  the 
meal  was  finished,  they  sauntered  into  the  front  cabin, 
which,  as  we  have  seen,  answered  the  purposes  of  sitting- 
room,  card-room,  and  grocery. 

"  This  is  likely  to  be  a  dull  day,"  remarked  Black,  as  he 
drew  a  cigar  from  his  pocket,  and  lighted  it  by  one  of  the 
blazing  brands  of  the  fire.  "  The  boys  will  not  be  back 
before  night,  and  we  shall  have  nothing  to  do  but  watch 
the  steamboats  as  they  pass.  It  is  a  pity  your  arm  is  hurt, 
but  for  that  we  might  have  a  social  game  of  cards  to  pass 
away  the  time." 

"My  arm  is  well  enough,"  surlily  responded  Simpson, 
who  did  not  exactly  like  the  allusion  to  his  discomfiture  of 


BERNARD     LILE.  45 

the  night  before.  "  I  can  handle  my  rifle  or  knife  easy, 
but  I  have  no  money,  and  I  don't  think  I  would  play  with 
you  any  more,  if  I  had." 

"Perhaps,  sir,"  said  Lile,  addressing  Black,  "you  would 
take  a  game  with  me." 

The  gambler's  eyes  sparkled.  It  was  the  very  thing  he 
had  been  longing  for,  but  he  stood  too  much  in  awe  of  that 
strange  man  to  make  the  advance. 

."  Certainly,"  he  said,  "  I  do  not  know  how  else  to  get 
through  the  day." 

Seating  himself  astride  the  long  bench  before  the  fire,  he 
drew  a  deck  of  cards  from  his  pocket,  and  shuffling  them 
carelessly,  asked, 

"What  shall  we  bet?" 

"Anything  you  please." 

"  Well,  I  never  bet  very  high,  but  a  little  stake  makes 
the  game  more  interesting.  Suppose  we  say  ten  a  game. " 

Lile  pulled  out  a  purse,  well  filled  with  gold ;  a  coin 
remarkably  scarce  at  that  day  on  the  Mississippi,  when  the 
whole  country  was  flooded  with  paper  money.  In  a  short 
time  afterwards  this  money,  became  utterly  worthless, 
making  shipwreck,  of*many  a  reputed  fortune,  and  dragging 
down  many  a  man  who  fancied  he  was  beyond  the  reach  of 
poverty. 

The  money  was  staked,  and  the  game  commenced.  At 
first  the  gambler  won.  The  stakes  were  doubled — he 
lost — doubled  again,  and  again,  until,  in  less  than  an  hour, 
the  redoubtable  Jim  Black  was  penniless.  In  his  despera- 
tion, he  pulled  out  his  watch  and  diamond  phi,  and  proffered 
to  play  for  them. 

"  No,"  was  the  reply,  "  I  have  no  use  for  your  jewels. 
I  am  satisfied  with  the  lesson  I  have  given  you.  These 
cards  are  marked.  I  knew  them  as  well  as  you  did,  hav- 
ing seen  such  things  often  in  Paris.  You  thought  to 


46  BEENABDLILE. 

swindle  me,  and  now  that  you  have  had  your  own  trick 
turned  upon  you,  must  put  up  with  your  losses  in  the  best 
way  you  can." 

"  Where  is  the  mark  ?"  asked  Simpson,  who  had  been 
watching  the  game  with  intense  interest. " 

"  There. "  Putting  his  finger  on  the  left  hand  side  of  the 
card,  about  a  fourth  of  its  length  from  the  top. 

Simpson  took  the  deck  in  his  hand — ran  his  eye  eagerly 
over  them,  and  exclaimed  ; 

"  By  God  1  it  is  as  big  as  a  horse  shoe." 

"  Yes,  now  that  it  is  shown  to  you  ;  but  you  have  been 
playing  with  this  man  for  years  without  making  the  dis- 
covery. " 

Simpson  laid  down  the  cards,  and  in  a  tone  of  deep  and 
stern  determination  addressed  Black,  who  had  remained 
perfectly  silent  during  the  foregoing  colloquy. 

"  I  told  you  that  if  ever  I  caught  you  cheating,  I  would 
introduce  my  knife  to  your  heart  strings,  and  as  God  is  my 
judge  I  will  keep  my  word." 

The  gambler's  matchless  impudence  now  came  to  his  aid. 
He  had  long  since  recovered  from  the  first  confusion  of 
detection.  Looking  Simpson  steadily  in  the  face,  he  said  : 

"  You  promised,  I  know,  to  cut  my  throat,  or  something 
of  the  sort,  if  you  ever  caught  me  cheating  you ;  but  it 
happens  that  you  haven't  caught  me  at  all.  I  played  a 
marked  deck  on  a  stranger  who  knew  them  better  than  I 
did,  and  I  have  got  badly  sucked  in.  But  what  is  that  to 
you  ?  I  never  cheated  you,  or  if  I  did  you  never  caught 
me,  and  can't  prove  it." 

"  He  is  right,"  said  Lile,  "  and  if  you  will  take  my  advice 
you  will  avoid  him  hereafter,  rather  than  quarrel  with  him 
for  what  is  past  and  gone.  I  assure  you  it  is  the  better 
course.  Let  it  drop  where  it  is  and  walk  a  little  way  with 
me.  I  have  something  to  say  to  you  privately." 


t 

BERNARD     LILE.  47 

Slowly,  reluctantly,  and  with  frequent  backward  glances 
at  the  object  of  his  resentment,  Simpson  followed  the  foot- 
steps of  Lile.  When  safe  beyond  the  chance  of  being  over- 
heard, the  latter  briefly  inquired, 

"  How  much  money  has  that  fellow  won  from  you  ?" 

"  First  and  last  at  least  three  thousand  dollars." 

Well,  here  is  about  five  thousand  dollars  I  have  just 
won  from  him.  Take  it  all,  you  are  entitled  to  some  com- 
pensation for  the  uneasiness  he  has  made  you  suffer." 

Simpson  drew  back,  but  Lil£  urged  it  upon  him.  "  Take 
it  man,  most  of  it  is  yours.  I  do  not  want  it,  and  played 
.with  him  for  no  other  purpose  than  to  win  what  you  had 
lost.  Besides  I  want  you  to  do  me  a  service,  and  I  do  not 
know  how  I  could,  have  paid  for  it  in  a  cheaper  way." 

The  hunter  pocketed  the  money,  but  it  was  clear  he  had 
many  misgivings  as  to  the  propriety  of  doing  so.    His  com-, 
panion  continued  interrogatively. 

"  You  know  the  road  to  San  Antonio  de  Bexar  ?' 

"  Every  foot  of  it,  as  well  as  I  know  the  ground  back  of 
Williams's  house." 

"  Well,  I  am  going  there,  and  I  want  some  one  who  can 
guide  me  by  the  nearest  paths  through  the  forest,  and  over 
the  prairies.  Will  you  go  ?" 

Simpson  thought  of  the  pile  of  gold  he  had  seen — he 
knew  the  scarcity  of  that  description  of  money — he  remem- 
bered also  that  his  companion  had  never  uttered  a  syllable 
to  indicate  from  whence  he  came,  or  what  was  his  business, 
and  a  suspicion  flashed  over  his  mind  that  he  was  an  emis- 
sary of  the  Mexican  government.  Under  this  impression 
he  replied. 

"  Tell  me  first  whether  you  have  any  dealings  with  the 
Mexicans." 

"  No,  but  I  hope  to  have  soon.  The  American  settlers 
in  Texas  have  declared  for  independence.  They  will  have 


48  BERNARD     LILE. 

a  hard  struggle,  and  I  am  going  to  offer  such  assistance  as 
a  single  arm  can  give." 

"  If  that  is  what  you  are  after,"  ejaculated  the  hunter, 
"  you  need  not  have  paid  so  high  for  a  guide.  I  would 
have  done  it  for  love.  What  is  more,  I  will  stand  by  you 
till  the  game's  played  out." 

"Then  we  will  consider  it  settled.  When  can  you 
start  ?" 

"  Day  after  to-morrow.  By  that  time  my  arm  will  be 
strong  enough  to  stand  a*  tussel  with  a  bear.  I  have 
nothing  else  to  do  but  send  this  money  to  my  old  father 
and  mother  in  Tennessee,  who  reduced  themselves  to* 
poverty  in  trying  to  learn  me  better  things  than  roaming 
the  woods  three-fourths  of  the  year,  and  associating  with 
gamblers  and  cut-throats  the  other  fourth.  When  I  know 
they  are  provided  for  neither  man  nor  devil  will  have  much 
hold  on  me." 

"  I  thought  you  had  been  better  educated  than  the  men 
with  whom  I  found  you." 

"  Yes,  I  learned  English  pretty  well,  and  also  a  little 
Latin  and  Greek  :  but  I  have  been  among  these  people  so 
long  I  have  caught  their  language,  as  well  as  their  man- 
ners, and  I  suppose  it  will  stick  by  me  to  my  dying  day." 

Without  further  conversation  they  returned  to  the  house, 
and  the  same  day  Simpson  took  advantage  of  a  passing 
steamboat  to  send  his  money  to  a  merchant  'of  New 
Orleans,  with  instructions  to  forward  it  to  his  father. 

The  night  passed  much  as  usual  after  the  return  of  the 
absent  hunters,  except  that  there  was  no  gambling.  Black 
did  not  appear  at  all  discomfited  by  his  exposure,  or  out 
of  spirits  from  the  serious  loss  he  had  sustained.  He  laughed, 
drank,  told  stories  with  the  rest,  and  was  among  the  last  to 
Beek  his  bear  skin  couch. 

With  the  dawn  of  morning  the  hunters  again  sought  the 


BERNARD     LTLB.  49 

woods,  and  Blapk,  contrary  to  his  custom,  went  with  them. 
Lile  and  Simpson  were  busied  with  preparations  for  their 
departure.  The  latter  insisted  on  seeing  everything.  It 
was  in  vain  the  former  assured  him  that  he  was  himself  an 
old  hunter  and  soldier ;  that  he  knew  all  that  was  needful, 
and  had  provided  it  accordingly.  Simpson  urged  that  the 
woods  were  new  and  strange ;  the  dangers  to  be  encountered 
of  a  different  kind  to  any  to  which  his  comrade  had  been 
accustomed.  He  examined  his  rifle  ;  shot  it  at  a  mark  to 
prove  its  accuracy.  Tried  the  temper  of  his  bowie  knife 
by  driving  it  through  an  inch  plank ;  and  finally  inspected 
his  powder  horn  and  bullet  pouch.  The  examination 
clearly  pleased  him.  As  he  laid  down  the  last  mentioned 
article  he  gave  vent  to  his  satisfaction. 

"  You  know  more  than  I  thought  any  man  could  learn 
in  the  settlements  ;  and  it  is  a  real  comfort  in  the  woods  to 
know  you  can  rely  on  your  companion." 


60  BERNARD     LILE. 


CHAPTER    IV. 

"Weak,  weak  and  Tain  our  struggles  to  be  free; 
Before  earth's  atoms  from  dark  chaos  sprung, 
The  hand  of  fate  had  traced  his  stern  decree, 
And  high  in  heaven  the  changeless  tablet  hung." 

THE  sun  had  long  passed  its  meridian,  and  was  rapidly 
descending  the  western  hemisphere.  In  the  deep  forest  of 
cottonwood  which  nearly  every  where  skirts  the  Mississippi, 
two  men,  with  their  rifles  beside  them,  were  seated  on  the 
trunk  of  a  fallen  tree  in  earnest  conversation.  The  first  was 
our  old  acquaintance  Black,  who  was  very  busily  engaged 
digging  a  trough  in  the  decaying  trunk  with  the  point  of  his 
Bowie  knife.  The  other  was  a  tall  and  powerful  man,  with 
black  eyes  and  sun-burned  face.  His  thin  and  closely  com- 
pressed lips,  together  with  a  certain  fierce,  devil-may-care 
expression  of  countenance,  told  of  iron  firmness,  and  a 
haughty  self-dependence,  resulting  from  many  a  danger 
encountered  and  overcome.  In  sleep,  a  physiognomist 
would  have  pronounced  those  features  well  suited  to  his 
manly  form  ;  but  there  was  something  in  the  eye — its  cat- 
like shape ;  its  constant  watchfulness ;  its  restless  and 
uneasy  roving  from  object  to  object,  that  spoke  of  crime 
more  loudly  than  of  daring.  Not  a  dry  branch  cracked, 
not  a  bird  fluttered  but  attracted  his  attention,  and  eacfi 
time  his  hand  was  laid  unconsciously  on  the  long  rifle  by 
his  side.  At  the  time  to  which  our  story  refers,  Black 
desisted  from  his  occupation,  and  looking  fixedly  at  his 
companion,  hissed  through  his  closed  teeth, — 
"  I  tell  you,  Montgomery,  it  must  be  done. " 
"  And  I  tell  you,  Jim  Black,  this  is  no  child's  business. 


BERNARD     LILE,  51 

I  wouldn't  mind  sending  a  rifle-bullet  through  the  stranger, 
if  he  is  as  rich  as  you  say  he  is,  but  Tom  Simpson  is  too 
well  known  in  this  neighborhood.  He  will  be  missed. 
You  and  me  will  be  suspected,  and  we  have  done  a  good 
many  things  in  our  time  that  won't  bear  searching  into." 

"  Simpson  must  die  too.  He  is  dangerous.  Every  time 
he  looked  at  me  last  night,  his  eye  had  the  roll  of  the  pan- 
ther when  about  to  make  his  leap.  Besides,  lie  knows  all 
now,  and  will  tell  every  trader  that  comes  to  the  Landing, 
BO  that  as  long  as  he  lives  our  game  here  is  blocked. " 

"  I  know  all  that,  and  wish  that  d — m — d  black-browed, 
say-nothing  devil,  had  been  in  hell  before  he  came  this  way. 
But  how  are  we  to  help  the  mischief  that  is  done  without 
running  too  much  risk  ?  The  law  is  weak  in  these  parts, 
I  know,  but  you  and  me  have  escaped  a  long  time,  and 
luck  will  change  after  awhile." 

"  Yes ;  luck  will  change.  Men  who  rely  on  luck  are 
certain  to  be  swamped  in  the  end,  but  sense  and  manage- 
ment seldom  fail.  They  start  to-morrow  for  Texas,  and 
take  the  nigh  cut  through  the  swamp.  I  wormed  it  all  out 
of  Lile  last  night,  when  he  little  thought  what  I  was  after. 
For  sixty  miles  the  path  can  be  travelled  very  well  by 
horses.  Now  what  is  to  prevent  you  and  me  from  crossing 
the  river  to  your  cabin  to-night — mounting  our  horses  at 
daylight,  and  pushing  on  ahead  for  forty  or  fifty  miles. 
There  are  plenty  of  hiding  places  for  the  horses  as  well  as 
for  ourselves,  and  the  job  can  be  done  without  risking  a 
coroner's  inquest." 

His  fellow-ruffian  did  not  answer  for  some  time.  He 
was  calculating  in  his  own  mind  all  the  chances  of  risk  and 
profit.  At  length  he  spoke, — 

"  I  suppose  I  must  stand  by  you,  Jim,  but  I  don't  like  it 
a  bit.  Tom  Simpson  has  the  eye  of  a  hawk  ,and  knows  the 
woods  better  than  any  Indian  between  here  and  the  Rocky 


52  BEBNAKDLILB. 

Mountains.  I  can't  tell  what  that  stranger  knows,  but  he's 
not  been  raised  on  carpeted  floors,  and  that  skrimmage  of 
his,  at  Williams's,  the  other  night,  was  not  the  first  he's 
been  in  by  a  hundred.  You  say  I  shall  have  the  five 
thousand  ?" 

"  Yes,  that  much  any  how,  and  if  he  is  as  rich  as  I  think 
he  is,  there  will  be  more  to  divide.  Now  let  us  be  off. 
We  have  no  time  to  spare,  and  need  not  stop  at  the  Land- 
ing to  make  excuses  for  not  killing  any  game  to-day." 

"  But  we  must  stop  to  buy  a  quart  at  Williams's.  I 
don't  think  I  ever  left  this  side  without  taking  some  of  the 
red-eye  with  me,  and  it  would  look  rather  suspicious  if  I 
went  without  it. " 

"  Right ;  exactly  right.  I  did  not  think  of  that.  Buy 
half  a  gallon ;  and  whisper  to  Williams,  as  a  great  secret, 
that  I  have  determined  to  keep  out  of  the  way  until  that 
affair  of  the  marked  cards  blows  over.  He  will  be  certain 
to  tell  it  to  every  body,  and  it  will  account  for  our  absence." 

As  the  sun  was  descending  behind  the  tree  tops,  on  his 
westward  journey,  the  intended  victims  of  this  cold-blooded 
assassination  were  standing  on  the  bank  of  the  Mississippi, 
watching  the  muddy  torrent  rushing  by  with  its  mighty 
tribute  to  the  ocean.  To  one  of  them  all  that  he  saw  was 
too  familiar  to  excite  emotion.  The  dark  forest  of  cotton- 
wood  had  been  his  home  for  years.  By  day  and  by  night 
he  had  threaded  its  most  intricate  paths.  Each  individual 
tree  was  a  familiar  acquaintance.  Separately  and  collec- 
tively he  looked  upon  them  with  that  feeling  of  indifference 
to  which  use  alike  brings  the  free  rover  of  the  woods  and 
the  lordly  occupant  of  a  palace.  In  the  river,  indeed,  he 
felt  an  exulting  pride — the  pride  of  patriotism.  It  be- 
longed to  America.  Like  Niagara,  the  lakes,  or  Jhe  wide 
prairie,  it  belonged  to  his  country.  He  had  come  to  spend 
a  portion  of  every  year  upon  its  banks.  In  his  heart  he 


BERNARD     LILE.  63 

believed  the  commerce  of  the  world  could  not  be  carried 
on  without  its  aid,  and  that  man  would  have  been  treading 
upon  dangerous  ground  who  ventured  to  say,  in  his  pre- 
sence, the  universe  contained  any  thing  to  equal  or  rival 
it.  Its  sucks,  eddies,  whirlpools,  snags,  sawyers,  all  were 
dear  to  him,  and  the  faintest  approach  to  a  sneer  would 
have  been  resented  as  promptly  as  an  intimation  that  the 
battle  of  New  Orleans  was  not  the  greatest  recorded  event 
in  history. 

To  the  other  it  suggested  reflections  of  a  widely  different 
nature.  He  compared  it  with  his  own  stormy  and  tem- 
pestuous life — rushing  on  in  its  headlong  course,  grand, 
majestic,  turbid,  terrible.  Laughing  to  scorn  the  puny 
efforts  of  man  to  control  and  direct  it.  Threatening 
everything  that  floated  upon  its  bosom  with  destruction. 
Whelming  every  obstacle  beneath  its  waves,  and  finally 
cutting  its  way  far  into  the  Gulf,  tinging  even  the  deep  sea 
with  its  own  muddy  hue. 

"  But  at  last,"  he  murmured,  "  it  mingles  with  its  brother 
waters.  The  stain  it  has  borne  for  a  thousand  miles  is 
washed  away,  and  in  that  vast  home  the  wild  torrent  be- 
comes clear  and  pure  as  the  mountain  rill.  Will  it  be  so 
with  me  ?  I  know  not,  and  I  doubt.  Yet,  surely  the 
feeling  that  urged  me  to  revisit  these  shores  was  from  above. 
It  is  not  the  promptings  of  the  Evil  One  that,  day  after 
day,  direct  me  to  assist  in  striking  the  shackles  of  tyranny 
from  human  limbs,  and  the  deadlier  shackles  of  superstition 
from  the  human  soul.  Not  his  the  hand  that  drew  away 
the  curtain  from  the  star  of  hope.  Not  his  the  voice  that 
whispers  return,  repent ;  there  was  pardon  for  the  thief 
upon  the  cross,  and  the  words  of  forgiveness  converted  his 
dying  agonies  into  rapture," 

A  calm  had  come — the  calm  of  despair.  The  winds  that 
now  ruffle  those  waves,  could  only  have  been  unchained  by 
5* 


54  BERNARD     LILE. 

the  hand  of  Him  whose  mercy  follows  even  those  who  have 
trampled  on  His  laws  and  defied  His  power. 

Slowly  he  turned  to  go  away,  but  Simpson  laid  his  hand 
upon  his  arm,  and  whispered, 

"Wait." 

Black  and  Montgomery  were  approaching  from  the 
direction  of  the  house,  with  their  guns  and  accoutrements. 
Walking  in  the  Indian  fashion,  one  behind  the  other,  they 
passed  by  our  two  friends  without  a  sign  of  recognition, 
undid  the  fastenings  of  a  skiff,  and  commenced  pulling 
rapidly  across  the  stream.  Simpson  watched  them  in 
silence,  until  they  had  pulled  out  many  yards  from  the 
bank,  when  his  thoughts  assumed  the  shape  of  words. 

"  There  goes  a  precious  pair  of  scoundrels.  I  wonder 
what  devil's  work  is  in  the  wind  now.  Every  time,  in  my 
knowing,  that  they  have  crossed  this  river  together,  some 
traveler  has  been  missed,  or  some  other  foul  deed  done." 

"  Their  good  intentions  are  directed  to  us  this  time,  my 
friend,"  was  the  response  of  Lile.  "  Mr.  Black,  like  most 
cunning  people,  betrayed  himself  last  night.  He  was  too 
inquisitive  by  half,  and  much  too  careless,  seemingly,  about 
the  answers  he  received.  Men  situated  as  he  and  I  are,  do 
not  ask  questions  of  each  other  without  feeling  an  interest 
in  the  answers.  From  his  look  and  manner,  an  unsuspect- 
ing person  would  have  been  apt  to  imagine  that  my  route, 
and  my  time  of  starting  were  the  most  indifferent  things  in 
the  world  to  Mr.  James  Black.  My  conclusion  was,  that  he 
intended  to  waylay  and  murder  us  both,  if  he  could,  and  I 
have  been  expecting  all  day  to  see  him  do  the  very  thing 
he  is  now  doing." 

"  Like  enough  !  Like  enough  !  He  hates  you  for  ex- 
posing him — he  knows  that  he  has  lost  me  as  a  customer, 
and  may,  at  any  time,  feel  the  point  of  my  knife.  Besides, 
he  would  cut  half  a  dozen  throats,  at  any  time,  for  a  less 


BERNARD     LILE.  55 

sum  than  he  thinks  you  have  about  you.  ,  I  wish  you 
had  let  me  kill  the  murdering  thief,  as  I  meant  to  do, 
yesterday. " 

"  I  shall  not  interfere  a  second  time,  if  my  suspicions  are 
correct.  Is  any  change  in  our  plans  necessary  ?" 

"Not  if  forty  lions  were  in  the  path.  We  know  some- 
thing now,  and  will  know  more  in  the  morning.  If  murder 
is  what  they  are  after,  they  will  catch  it  themselves,  unless 
Tom  Simpson  has  forgotten  his  woodcraft." 

Lile  extended  his  hand,  and  grasped  that  of  his  com- 
panion cordially, 

"  Now  I  know  you,  my  gallant  friend ;  and  as  our  lots 
are  to  be  henceforth  cast  together,  I  may  as  well  say  that 
you  need  have  no  misgivings  about  my  inexperience. 
True,  I  know  nothing  of  the  country  we  are  to  pass,  but  I 
am  an  older  woodsman  than  yourself,  and  never  in  the 
forest,  the  desert,  or  the  walled  town,  have  I  met  that  man 
who  was  my  equal  with  rifle,  with  sword,  or  with  dagger." 

"  I  believe  you  ;  and  what  is  more,  if  you  were  to  tell 

me  you  could  run  and  jump  the  Mississippi,  I'll  be  d d 

if  I  didn't  believe  that  too.  It  would  be  no  stranger  than 
jerking  me  about  like  a  cub  bear  of  a  month  old. " 

"  Forget  that.  I  will  do  the  same  thing  for  your  foes, 
if  it  should  ever  become  necessary." 

"  Forget  it !  I  might  as  well  try  and  forget  I  had  ever 
seen  that  river  yonder.  I  shall  dream  of  it  for  a  year. 
Not  in  malice  though.  It  was  an  open  stand  up  business, 
with  the  advantages  all  on  my  side,  and  Tom  Simpson  is 
not  a  man  to  nurse  ill-blood  for  a  free  fight  of  his  own 
choosing." 

The  deepening  shadows  now  reminded  them  that  it  was 
about  the  usual  hour  for  supper.  The  thoughts  of  the 
hunter  had  again  returned  to  their  purposed  journey,  and 
as  they  walked  towards  the  house,  he  said, 


66  BERNARD     LILE. 

"  We  must  pack  up  two  days'  provision.  There  is  plenty 
of  game  on  the  way,  but  it  will  not  do  to  let  our  rifles 
speak  in  the  woods  until  we  know  what  Black  and  Mont- 
gomery are  after." 

With  this  the  subject  was  quietly  dropped,  and  neither 
refered  to  it  again.  There  was  no  bustle  of  preparation, 
no  nervous  restlessness.  Calm  and  self-confident — relying 
with  perfect  faith  on  each  other's  skill  and  courage — con- 
scious that  both  had  been  tried  by  greater  dangers  than 
any  now  threatening  them,  and  certain  that  no  proper  pre- 
caution would  be  neglected ;  the  knowledge  that  their 
pathway  was  to  be  waylaid  by  murderers,  created  no  more 
uneasiness  than  a  winter  rain  would  have  done  in  the 
bosom  of  an  ordinary  traveler. 

The  next  morning  a  dense  fog  shrouded  the  Mississippi, 
and  completely  hid  the  opposite  shore.  At  such  a  time 
the  boldest  shrink  from  trusting  themselves  upon  the 
bosom  of  the  dangerous  stream.  The  wheels  of  the  steam- 
boat are  stopped,  and  the  sonorous  bell  continually  sends 
forth  its  warning  peals.  The  birds  sit  with  folded  wings 
on  the  trees,  and  the  panther  creeps  with  slow  and  fearful 
steps  to  the  brink  to  lap  his  morning  draught.  The  long 
moss  hangs  in  gloomy  festoons  from  the  stirless  branches. 
No  breath  of  air  is  stealing  over  forest  or  wave ;  but  every 
where  there  broods  a  still  and  awful  calm.  At  one  place 
the  murky  vapors  shape  themselves  into  the  dim  outlines 
of  a  grim  tower,  with  its  frowning  battlements  and  guarded 
loop-holes — close  by  these  rises  a  giant  figure,  whose  pro- 
portions are  those  of  an  ante-deluvian  race.  Rapidly  as 
the  shifting  scenes  of  a  panorama  these  are  swept  away, 
and  an  old  graveyard  takes  their  place,  whose  hoary  tomb- 
stones are  covered  with  the  moss  of  centuries.  This  in 
turn  disappears,  and  another,  and  another,  and  another 
succeeds;  but  all  sad,  all  sorrowful,  all  filling  the  mind 


BERNARD     LILE.  57 

with  nameless  dread  and  apprehension.  The  far-off  hoot 
of  the  owl  struggles  slowly  through  the  mist,  and  the  long 
cry  of  the  wolf  sounds  like  the  requiem  of  the  water-wraith 
over  the  victims  about  to  be  swallowed  up  by  the  rapacious 
flood.  Night  has  its  terrors,  but  night  and  storm,  and 
darkness,  have  no  shapes  of  fear  like  those  that  people  a 
fog  on  the  Mississippi.  Real  dangers  mingle  with  those 
imagination  has  conjured  up,  and  reason  aids  the  fancy  to 
unman  the  stoutest  heart.  Yet  our  travelers  stopped  not 
for  fog,  or  floating  trees,  or  the  hidden  shore  before  them. 
Silently,  but  firmly,  they  stepped  into  the  frail  skiff,  and 
pulled  out  upon  the  foaming  waters.  The  light  paddle- 
blades  bent  in  the  grasp  of  the  strong  hands  that  held 
them,  and  the  little  barque  sped  through  the  gloom  with 
the  swiftness  of  the  sea-gull.  Landing  on  the  western 
bank,  they  followed  the  main  road  a  short  distance,  and 
then  struck  off  along  a  bridle  path  to  the  South. 

"  It  is  but  a  short  mile  to  Montgomery's  cabin,"  said 
Simpson,  as  they  walked  on,  "  and  there  we  shall  learn 
enough  to  decide  upon  our  plans." 

"  You  do  not  expect  to  find  them  there,  do  yon  ?" 

"  Not  if  they  mean  mischief.  In  that  case  they  were 
off  two  hours  ago.  Montgomery  will  shed  no  blood  near  his 
own  door.  The  settlements  here  are  too  thick.  He  is  sus- 
pected already,  and  a  murder  here  would  be  troublesome." 

A  few  minutes  walk  brought  them  in  sight  of  three  or 
four  cabins  in  the  forest,  constituting  the  dwelling  and  out 
houses  of  Montgomery.  As  they  approached,  three  large 
and  powerful  dogs  sprang  over  the  fence  with  the  evident 
purpose  of  giving  instant  battle  to  the  intruders.  The 
hunter,  however,  was  an  old  acquaitance,  whose  footsteps 
they  had  often  followed  through  the  woods. 

At  the  first  sound  of  his  voice  their  fierce  growls  were 
changed  into  a  glad  whining,  and  all  three  leaped  upon 


58  BEKNAKD     LILE. 

him,  licking  his  hands  and  face  in  the  exuberance  of  their 

joy- 

"  There,  pups,  that  will  do,"  said  he,  as  he  gave  to  each 
a  rude  caress.  "  If  your  master  was  half  as  honest  and 
true  as  you  are,  he  and  I  would  pass  through  the  world, 
and  leave  it,  on  better  terms  than  I  expect." 

The  noise  of  the  dogs  brought  an  old  negress  to  the 
door,  whom  Simpson  addressed  with  a  cordial — 

"  Good  morning,  Aunt  Sophy,  where  is  your  master  ?" 

"  Him  and  Massa  Black,  done  gone  huntin'  dis  two 
hours  ago." 

Letting  the  butt-end  of  his  rifle  fall  to  the  ground,  and 
crossing  his  arms  over  the  muzzle,  he  questioned  the  old 
woman  long,  and  closely.  He  asked  particularly  what 
time  they  started.  Why  they  had  not  taken  the  dogs. 
What  route  they  took,  and  whether  they  had  gone  on  foot 
or  horseback.  Having  obtained  all  the  information  she 
possessed  he  declined  "Aunt  Sophy's"  invitation  to  stop 
and  take  breakfast — bade  her  good  bye,  and  placing  one 
hand  on  the  topmost  rail  of  the  fence,  he  cleared  it  at  a 
bound.  His  companion  followed  his  example,  and  the 
two  moved  on  in  the  direction  of  the  deep  forest  skirting 
the  clearing.  In  a  short  time  they  came  to  a  path  made 
by  cattle  or  other  domestic  animals  going  to  and  returning 
from  a  water  hole.  Here  they  separated,  walking  on  side 
by  side,  but  at  a  considerable  distance  apart,  and  scruti- 
nizing closely  every  foot  of  ground  they  passed.  Hour  after' 
hour  glided  by.  Absorbed  in  the  business  before  them,  not 
a  word  was  spoken  until  near  noon,  when  Lile  called  the 
hunter  to  his  side,  and  pointed  to  the  deep  print  of  horses 
hoofs  in  the  soft  soil  of  the  woods. 

"  Here  is  the  trail  at  last ;  and  one  a  blind  man  might 
follow." 


BERNARD     LILE.  59 

Simpson  examined  it  for  a  moment,  and  then  spoke  in  a 
low  musing  tone,  as  if  talking  to  himself. 

"  Well,  Bill  Montgomery  is  a  damnder  fool  than  I  took 
him  to  be.  Why,  I  can  follow  that  track  for  a  week  and 
tell  within  five  minutes  of  the  time  he  crosses  every  mud 
hole  on  the  way.  Jim  Black  never  knowed  much  about 
the  woods,  but  he  ought  to  have  known  better  than  to 
leave  signs  as  plain  as  these  when  he  goes  hunting  such 
dangerous  game  as  you  and  me,  captain. 

Lile  only  replied  by  a  brief  inquiry  as  to  the  nature  of 
the  country  before  them. 

"  It  is  all  open  woods  for  thirty  miles,  with  little  or  no 
undergrowth.  Then  there  is  a  cypress  swamp,  for  three  or 
four  miles.  Beyond  that  is  a  canebrake.  It  is  there  they 
will  wait  for  us,  for  there  only  can  they  hide  the  horses." 

"  Then  we  have  nothing  to  do  but  follow  these  tracks 
for  the  remainder  of  the  day." 

"  That's  all.  Do  you  take  the  path,  I'll  follow  the  trail, 
I  reckon  they  run  pretty  much  together,  but  I  don't  like 
to  risk  losing  the  scent,  now  we'i»  found  it. " 

The  progress  of  our  travelers  now  became  much  more 
rapid.  It  is  true  that  with  the  habitual  caution  of  men 
inured  to  the  dangers  of  a  wild  and  roving  life  their  eyes 
continually  roamed  through  the  forest,  searching  out  every 
suspicious  object,  and  marking  every  moving  thing,  but 
this  in  no  degree  abated  the  speed  of  their  progress. 
Occasionally  a  deer,  bounded  past,  and  near  nightfall  a 
huge  bear,  within  fifty  yards,  reared  himself  against  the 
trunk  of  a  tree,  and  commenced,  leisurely,  to  pull  off  the 
bark  with  his  claws.  Beyond  this  no  living  thing  dis- 
turbed the  solitude  about  them.  About  dark  they  reached 
the  lagoon  agreed  upon  as  the  place  of  their  night's 
encampment.  A  fire  was  soon  kindled,  and  the  rude 
supper  brought  with  them  was  despatched  with  a  relish 


60  BERNARD     LILE. 

the  dwellers  in  cities  never  know.  Their  plans  for  the 
morrow  were  then  arranged  as  far  as  practicable  :  much, 
of  course,  being  left  to  be  determined  by  circumstances. 
When  this  was  done  the  hunter  arose,  and  taking  his  rifle 
said, 

"  You  may  sleep  here  as  safely  as  if  you  were  in  Wil- 
liams's  cabin.  We  are  in  a  bend  of  the  lagoon,  and  the 
gap  is  not  more  than  forty  yards  wide.  With  this  star- 
light it  will  go  hard  if  a  wild  cat  enters  without  my  knowing 
it.  I  will  rouse  you  at  midnight  if  it  is  needful. " 

So  saying  he  disappeared  among  the  trees. 

Lile  spread  his  blanket  upon  the  ground,  and  laid  down 
upon  it,  but  not  to  sleep.  He  gazed  upward  through  the 
trees  upon  the  calm  blue  sky,  and  the  bright  stars  which 
everywhere  spangled  its  vault.  With  what  bitter  reproaches 
did  that  scene  of  peace,  of  beauty,  and  of  holy  harmony 
speak  to  his  stormy  soul.  In  the  mountains  of  Asia — 
amid  the  gorgeous  civilization  of  Europe — in  the  deserts 
of  Africa — on  the  heaving  billows  of  the  dark  blue  sea,  a 
hundred,  and  a  hundred  times  had  those  stars  spoken  to 
him  before.  But  never  until  now  had  they  so  touched, 
softened  and  subdued  his  iron  nature.  Memory  carried 
him  back  into  the  long  gone  past.  He  remembered  him- 
self a  bright  eyed  boy,  rising  with  the  lark  and  warbling 
songs  as  blithe  and  gay  as  his.  Now  bounding  with  his 
young  companions  in  joyous  sport  from  hill  to  hill,  or 
breasting  with  exulting  strength  the  billows  of  the  moun- 
tain stream.  Then  came  a  dream  of  love  :  sweet  as  it 
always  is  in  youth,  when  we  scarce  dare  name  even  to  our 
own  hearts  the  passion  that  consumes  it.  When  we  build 
an  altar  and  place  thereon  a  divinity  of  our  own  creation — 
robbing  the  archangels  of  their  beauty,  and  stealing  from 
heaven  its  sinless  purity  to  clothe  an  earthly  idol ;  before 
which  we  then  bow  down  in  blind  adoration.  Adoration 


• 

BERNARD     LTLE.  Cl 

that  soon  finds  a  bitter  ending.  Happy  those  who  never 
dream  :  or  whom  an  early  death  cuts  off  before  the  hour  of 
waking  comes.  How  or  when  that  hour  came  to  him  none 
knew,  but  come  it  did,  and  war,  famine,  pestilence,  the  wild 
adventure,  and  the  wilder  revel  had  each  taken  him  by  the 
hand,  but  each  in  turn  fled  before  the  mightier  demon  who 
had  taken  sanctuary  in  his  breast.  Even  now  with  his 
path  waylaid  by  murderers ;  with  the  howl  of  the  hungry 
panther  in  his  ear,  and  none  but  a  solitary  sentinel  to  guard 
his  lonely  couch,  he  thought  not  of  the  dangers  around,  or 
the  weary  journey  before  him.  Step  by  step  he  traced 
back  the  years  of  memory.  Every  joy  he  had  known  rose 
up  before  him,  but  the  vision  rested  only  for  a  moment, 
and  brought  no  gladness  in  its  train.  Not  so  with  its  sor- 
rows. They  were  seared  in  as  by  the  lightning  on  his 
brain.  Rapidly  he  ran  over  the  terrible  record  until  words 
came  to  syllable  reflection. 

"  And  now,  what  am  I  ?  An  outcast  and  a  wanderer : 
my  father's  honest  name  discarded  that  it  might  not  be 
blackened  by  the  deeds  of  his  son.  High  talents  unem- 
ployed. Genius  bringing  forth  none  but  evil  fruits. 
Strength,  skill,  and  courage,  more  than  mortal,  sold  year 
after  year  to  some  barbarian  prince,  in  whose  petty  feuds 
were  wasted  energies  sufficient  for  a  nation's  redemption. 
Exciting  strife  wherever  I  go,  and  dogged,  even  here,  by  a 
fatality  that  is  never  at  rest  except  when  my  hand  is  red 
with  human  blood.  Oh  !  could  we  only  know  to  what  the 
first  sin  leads  how  few  would  take  that  fearful  step." 

At  this  moment  the  cracking  of  a  dry  branch  caught  his 
ear,  and  springing  to  his  feet,  rifle  in  hand",  he  bent  his 
gaze  in  the  direction  whence  the  sound  proceeded. 

"You  sleep  lightly,"  said  Simpson,  emerging  from  the 
wood,  "the  snapping  of  that  stick  would  hardly  have 
waked  a  slumbering  panther. " 

6 


62  BERNARD     LILE. 

Lile  did  not  see  proper  to  give  occasion  for  painful 
questions  by  saying  he  had  not  slept  at  all.  Throwing  his 
rifle  on  his  shoulder,  and  casting  his  eye  upwards  to  the 
stars,  he  replied. 

"It  is  past  midnight.  Show  me  my  post,  and  I  will 
keep  watch  until  day-break." 

"  No  further  watch  is  needed.  Indeed  I  did  suppose  not 
any  was  necessary  from  the  first :  but  as  it  would  do  me  no 
harm  to  sit  up  until  midnight  I  thought  I  might  as  well 
keep  an  eye  on  the  track  those  murdering  villains  had 
taken." 

Fresh  fuel  was  added  to  the  fire,  and  the  two  friends 
stretching  themselves  side  by  side  upon  the  ground,  slept 
until  the  dawning  morn  had  streaked  the  east  with  its  rosy 
hues. 


BERNAKDLILE.  63 


CHAPTER   V. 

"  Such  tools  the  tempter  ever  needs, 
To  do  the  bloodiest  of  deeds ; 
For  them,  nc  yisioned  terrors  daunt, 
Their  nights  no  fancied  spectres  haunt, 

"  Fell  as  he  was  in  act  and  mind, 
He  left  no  bolder  heart  behind." 

LET  us  return  to  Montgomery  and  Black,  whom  we  left 
paddling  across  the  turbid  current  of  the  Mississippi.  The 
shades  of  night  had  fallen  on  the  earth  when  they  reached 
the  collection  of  huts  described  in  the  foregoing  chapter. 
They  found  the  old  negress  at  her  solitary  supper.  Bidding 
her  add  something  to  it  for  a  couple  of  hungry  men,  they 
divested  themselves  of  their  accoutrements ;  took  a  long 
draught  from  the  stone  jug  Montgomery  had  brought  with 
him,  and  set  about  building  a  huge  fire  upon  the  ample 
hearth  of  an  adjoining  room.  This  done,  their  rifles  were 
discharged ;  carefully  cleaned ;  their  locks  removed  and 
oiled.  Then  followed  another  swig  at  the  jug,  and  with 
appetites  sharpened  by  exercise  and  alcohol,  they  sat  down 
to  the  plentiful  repast  "Aunt  Sophy"  had  prepared. 
Supper  over,  they  took  their  way  to  the  stable,  in  which 
were  two  horses  of  uncommon  bone  and  muscle.  These 
were  thoroughly  rubbed  down,  .  corn-cobs  supplying  the 
place  of  curry-combs,  and  plentifully  fed.  Returning  to 
the  house,  the  jug  was  again  put  in  requisition  for  a 
"Night-cap."  Some  bear-skins  were  spread  upon  the 
floor  before  the  fire,  and  the  two  were  soon  wrapped  in 
slumber  as  profound,  and  apparently  as  peaceful  as  that 
of  an  infant  in  its  cradle. 


64  BERNAKDLILE. 

All  this  time  their  conversation  had  been  about  the 
ordinary  events  every  day  occurring  in  the  forest,  or  on 
the  river.  There  was  no  allusion  to  the  murders  they  had 
that  day  agreed  to  perpetrate.  No  speculations  upon  the 
chances  of  success  or  failure  in  their  undertaking.  Their 
bearing  throughout  was  calm,  cool,  undisturbed  by  fear, 
or  by  anxiety.  In  short,  they  were  bold,  hardy,  and  deter- 
mined men,  who,  having  once  resolved  upon  the  commis- 
sion of  a  crime,  permitted  nojveak  misgivings  to  -interfere 
with  the  execution  of  their  purposes.  The  stirring  life  of 
the  frontier  had  done  much  to  drown  reflection.  They 
were  also  in  the  morning  of  existence,  and  at  that  age,  the 
voice  of  remorse,  though  never  silent,  comes  to  us  in  com- 
paratively faint  and  feeble  notes.  It  is  in  after  years,  when 
strength  begins  to  wane,  and  courage  to  fail,  that  con- 
science gathers  its  hordes  of  demons  about  the  heart.  It  is 
then  we  look  upon  the  sunbeam  with  horror,  from  its  con- 
trast with  the  blackness  within.  It  is  then  we  shrink*  and 
tremble  at  the  night,  and  fancy  that  every  shadow  is  a 
grinning  fiend.  The  evil  we  have  done  not  only  clings  to 
the  human  soul  with  a  never-ending  life,  but  year  by  year 
it  exudes  a  deadlier  venom,  while  year  by  year  the  power 
of  resistance  fails.  The  lost  wretch  feels  as  if  he  were 
chained  on  the  brink  of  a  burning  lake,  whose  lurid  waves 
rise  higher  and  higher,  as  they  roll  in  angry  surges  at  his 
feet.  One  after  another,  mirrored  on  its  fiery  surface,  the 
deeds  of  a  lifetime  spring  up  with  startling  distinctness, 
while  to  his  ear,  each  separate  one  has  found  a  voice  and 
shrieks  for  retribution.  Oh !  how  different  do  they  seem  at 
such  an  hour  from  the  things  that  self-delusion  painted, 
when  interest,  pride,  revenge,  ambition,  avarice,  with  care- 
ful hands  obscured  the  deeds  they  prompted.  As  yet  the 
lawless  ruffians,  reposing  beneath  the  roof  of  that  forest 
cabin  were  unvisited  by  the  torments  of  remorse.  It  might 


BERNARD     LILE.  65 

be  they  would  never  know  them  here.  It  might  be  that 
an  All-wise  Providence  had  decreed,  they  should  rush  sud- 
denly and  unprepared,  upon  the  dread  hereafter.  Let  us 
wait — the  problem  will  soon  be  solved. 

About  two  hours  after  midnight  the  gambler  rose. 
Heaping  some  additional  logs  on  the  fire,  he  roused  his 
companion  with  a  gruff 

"  Come,  Bill,  it  is  time  we  were  stirring." 

Montgomery  rose,  and  producing  an  iron  lamp,  fed  with 
bear's  grease,  from  a  cupboard  in  the  corner  of  the  room, 
lighted,  and  placed  it  upon  the  table.  Their  rifles  were 
again  inspected,  and  the  blades  of  their  Bowie  knives  par- 
tially oiled,  so  as  to  pull  easily  from  the  scabbards.  Black 
then  undertook  to  prepare  breakfast,  while  the  squatter 
went  to  the  stable  to  examine  into  the  condition  of  the 
horses.  The  morning  was  frosty  and  cold  for  that  low 
latitude,  a  circumstance  Montgomery  did  not  fail  to  make 
an  excuse  for  helping  himself  to  an  "  eye  opener,"  on  his 
return  to  the  house. 

"  I  have  told  you,  Bill,"  said  the  gambler,  looking  up 
from  the  meats  he  was  frying,  "  at  least  a  hundred  times, 
that  if  you  mean  to  make  your  living  by  cards,  you  must 
quit  that  d — m — d  habit  of  drinking  in  the  morning.  I 
am  as  fond  of  liquor  as  you  are,  but  I  never  drink  until 
after  dinner.  And  no  man  ought  to  who  doesn't  want  his 
brain  kept  as  muddy  as  the  Mississippi." 

"  Maybe  you  are  right  about  the  papers,  Jim,  but  you 
and  I  have  set  about  making  a  living  with  a  different  sett 
of  tools,  and,  as  liquor  don't  interfere  with  the  use  of  the 
rifle  or  the  knife,  you  needn't  grumble  now." 

"  It  interferes  with  every  thing,  I  tell  you.  Brains  are 
just  as  necessary  in  a  skrimmage  with  a  bear,  as  in  a  game 
of  poker ;  and  yours  will  be  of  d — n — d  little  use  to  you 

6* 


66  BERNARD     LILE. 

the  balance  of  this  day.  At  least  mine  would  be  to  me,  if 
I  had  swallowed  half  the  whiskey  you  have. " 

"  Well,  there's  nothing  but  hard  riding  to  do  to-day,  and 
to-morrow  I'll  humor  your  whim." 

"  That  will  do.  Now  let  us  eat  and  be  off.  It  is  past 
three  o'clock,  and  it  wont  lack  much  of  day-break  by  the 
time  we  get  started." 

Breakfast  was  despatched  after  the  manner  of  men  who 
regard  eating  as  a  necessary  evil ;  not  as  a  luxury  to  be 
prolonged  to  the  latest  moment.  The  horses  were  brought 
out,  saddled,  and  packed  with  the  few  articles  necessary 
for  a  short  encampment  in  the  woods.  The  two  then 
mounted,  and  set  out  on  their  dark  journey  without  a 
twinge  of  conscience,  or  one  moment's  reluctant  pause. 

"Keep  well  to  the  right,"  said  the  squatter,  to  his  com- 
panion, who  was  a  little  ahead,  "  if  Simpson  and  the 
stranger  come  straight  from  the  landing,  they  will  strike 
the  trace  about  my  water  hole,  and  it  is  best  not  to  let 
them  see  horse's  tracks  beyond  that." 

"Pshaw!  they  have  no  suspicion  of  us." 

"  I  reckon  not ;  and  I  should  be  sorry  if  they  had.  But 
Simpson  knows,  as  well  as  I  do,  that  there's  mighty  little 
traveling  done  along  this  trace  on  horseback,  and  it's  not 
the  safest  thing  in  the  world,  to  set  him  to  guessing  what 
it  means." 

Black  mused  for  a  moment,  and  then  said  slowly  and 
earnestly, 

"  Bill,  tell  the  honest  truth,  ain't  you  a  little  afraid  of 
Tom  Simpson  ?" 

The  squatter  checked  the  throb  of  rising  passion  at  the 
reflection  on  his  courage  the  question  seemed  to  imply ; 
but  his  answer,  though  divested  of  anger,  was  given  in 
that  low,  determined  tone,  which  conveys  a  warning,  as 
distinct  as  that  of  the  rattlesnake  before  he  strikes. 


BERNARD     LILE.  67 

"  Jim,  if  you  had  asked  that  question  like  a  man  who 
wanted  to  hurt  feelins,  I  should  have  been  tempted  to 
try  my  rifle  on  your  carcase  before  the  other  game  got  in 
sight." 

"  I  meant  no  harm.  I  do  not  want  to  quarrel  with  you 
any  where ;  and  certainly  not  now,  or  here.  I  had  good 
reasons  for  asking." 

"  Then  I'll  tell  you.  I  don't  think  I  ever  knowed  ex- 
actly what  it  was  to  be  afraid — that  is,  what  other  men 
call  afraid.  I  don't  know  how  to  explain  it,  but  I'll  tell 
you  a  story,  and  that  will  let  you  understand  the  rights  of 
it.  When  I  was  a  little  boy,  daddy  lived  up  on  the  edge 
of  the  Indian  nation.  One  evening  there  came  a  traveler 
along,  and  asked  if  he  could  stay  all  night.  Daddy  was 
gone  hunting,  and  nobody  knowed  when  he'd  be  back.  So 
mammy  told  him  he  might  stay,  if  he  could  take  care  of  his 
own  horse.  I  followed  the  stranger  to  the  stable,  where 
the  first  thing  he  did  was  to  shuck  himself,  and  go  to  rub- 
bing his  horse  with  all  his  might.  I  was  standing  looking 
on,  whistling  Yankee  Doodle,  when  he  turned  'round  and 
asked  me  if  I  warnt  afraid.  'No,'  says  I,  'what's  here- to 
be  afraid  of?'  '  Oh  !  nothing,'  says  he,  'only  I  sometimes 
have  fits,  and  then  I'm  dangerous.'  I  didn't  know  what 
fits  meant,  but  I  took  it  to  be  some  wild  varmint  like  a 
bear,  or  a  catamount  So  I  sidled  off  to  the  house ; 
gathered  mammy's  butcher  knife,  and  a  good  sized  rock, 
and  then  went  straight  back  to  the  stable.  The  feller  never 
let  on  like  he  seed  me,  but  kept  working  away  on  his 
horse.  After  a  while  he  begun  to  pile  in  the  corn  and 
fodder.  I  couldn't  stand  it  any  longer.  '  Stranger,'  says 
I,  'aint  you  going  to  have  one  of  them  things  ?'  'What 
things,'  says  he.  '  Them  things  you  was  talking  about,' 
says  I.  '  Oh  !  fits, '  says  he,  busting  out  in  a  laugh,  '  what 
the  devil  do  you  want  me  to  have  one  of  them  for  ?'  '  Kase 


68  BERNARD     LILE. 

I  never  seed  one  of  the  critters,'  says  I,  '  and  I  wants  to  see 
one.'  He  looked  at  me  in  a  way  I  didn't  then  understand, 
and  said,  mighty  solemn,  '  I  was  only  joking  with  you,  my 
t  son.  Put  away  your  knife  and  rock,  and  remember  what  I 
tell  you,  when  I  am  gone.  With  that  bold  heart  in  your 
bosom,  you  have  only  to  lead  an  honest  life,  and  this  world 
will  be  no  hard  place  for  you  to  live  in. ' 

"  And  now,  Jim,  the  feeling  I  had,  when  I  was  going 
back  to  the  stables,  with  that  rock  and  knife,  is  the  only 
kind  of  fear  I  ever  felt.  I  didn't  want  to  run  away  from 
the  thing,  no  matter  what  it  was,  but  I  wanted  to  get 
something  to  hurt  it. 

"  While  I  am  talking,  I  may  as  well  tell  you  something 
else.  It's  more  than  twenty  years  since  that  happened. 
I'm  sure  I  haven't  thought  about  it  more  than  two  or  three 
times  since ;  but  yesterday,  when  we  was  coming  down  the 
bank,  and  that  stranger  turned  to  look  at  us,  I'd  a  swore 
he  was  the  same  man  who  told  me  to  lead  an  honest  life. 
He's  changed  mightily.  He's  fuller,  and  his  flesh  looks 
harder,  and  tougher.  He's  had  trouble  enough,  I'll  be 
bound.  But  the  first  time  I  laid  my  eyes  on  him,  I  was 
certain  I  had  seen  him  somewhere.  I  watched  him  when 
Tom  Simpson  was  charging  on  him  like  a  buffalo  bull ; 
and  there  was  something  in  his  eye  I  had  seen  before.  I 
watched  him  when  he  was  moping  over  the  fire,  looking  as 
doleful  as  a  gal  whose  sweetheart  had  got  tired  and  gin 
her  leg  bail;  and  I  was  certain  I  knowed  him,  but  I 
couldn't  think  where  we  had  met.  When  he  turned  to  look 
at  us,  as  we  were  making  for  the  skiff,  it  flashed  on  me  at 
once.  As  certain  as  my  name  is  Bill  Montgomery,  that 
man  was  in  these  parts  twenty  years  ago. " 

Black  listened  to  the  narrative  in  silence,  and  from  the 
careless  manner  he  permitted  the  bridle  to  hang  on  his 


BERNARD     LILE.  69 

horse's  neck,  it  was  evident  he  was  deeply  interested, 
When  it  was  finished,  he  asked,  in  a  voice  of  some  anxiety, 

"  Well,  what  has  that  to  do  with  our  present  business  ?" 

"  Nothing.  Only  it  looks  a  little  hard,  to  waylay  and 
shoot  a  man  who  gave  me  the  only  good  advice  any  one 
ever  took  the  trouble  to  waste  upon  me." 

"  Think  of  the  five  thousand  dollars,  Bill,  and  recollect 
this  job  makes  you  independent." 

"  I  have  thought  of  that,  or  I  should  not  have  stirred 
from  my  cabin  this  morning.  No  matter  what  comes,  you 
needn't  be  afraid  of  any  flinching  on  my  part  now." 

Neither  appeared  to  be  disposed  to  continue  the  con- 
versation. Montgomery  had  already  spoken  at  much 
greater  length  than  was  his  wont ;  and  he  now  pushed  on 
ahead,  still  keeping  about  a  hundred  yards  to  the  right  of 
the  path,  or  trace,  as  it  was  generally  called  by  the  settlers. 
The  sun  was  nearly  up,  when  the  squatter  broke  the  un- 
social silence  of  their  lonely  ride. 

"  We  must  mend  our  gait.  I  want  to  cross  the  Cypress 
Swamp  before  sundown ;  for  I  have  no  notion  of  floundering 
in  that  d d  bog  after  dark." 

The  horses  were  pressed  into  a  rapid  trot :  a  pace  they 
preserved  throughout  the  day,  wherever  the  nature  ol  the 
ground  would  admit  of  it. 

It  was  yet  early  in  the  evening,  when  they  approached 
the  edge  of  a  gloomy  morass,  that  fancy  might  easily  have 
converted  into  a  vast  burial  place  for  some  Aboriginal 
tribe.  The  bare,  and  stunted  knees,  scattered  here  and 
there,  looked  like  tombstones,  placed  to  mark  where  chiefs 
and  warriors  slumbered ;  and  over  all  the  dark  Cypress, 
with  its  melancholy  drapery  of  moss,  kept  up  a  continual 
moaning,  as  the  wind  howled  through  it,  for  the  beautiful, 
and  the  brave,  who  had  long  ago  passed  to  the  Spirit  land. 

The  scene  was  not  without  its  influence  on  the  hardened 


70  BERNARD     LILE. 

natures  of  the  lawless  men  who  now  reined  up  on  its  brink. 
The  one  was  rude  and  unlettered.  Beyond  the  first  rudi- 
ments of  his  own  tongue  ;  he  had  learned  nothing  from 
books ;  bat  it  was  impossible  to  live,  as  he  had  done  from 
early  infancy,  in  the  wild  forest — to  roam  over  the  vast 
Prairie,  and  climb  the  snow-capped  summits  of  the  Rocky 
Mountains — without  imbibing  a  portion  of  that  poetry 
which  gives  to  the  language  of  the  Indian,  a  beauty  and  a 
melody,  rarely  equalled  by  the  cultivated  eloquence  of 
civilized  life.  Unknown  to  himself,  a  lovely  flower  had 
grown  and  blossomed  amid  the  noxious  weeds  neglect  had 
sown,  and  evil  associations  nourished,  in  a  heart  not 
naturally  bad. 

The  other  was  of  a  different  order.  His  intellect  had 
been  carefully  cultivated,  and  he  had  at  one  time  mingled 
familiarly  with  the  most  polished  society.  He  was  a 
student,  at  times,  notwithstanding  the  absorbing  nature  of 
his  pursuits.  To  a  thirst  for  gaming,  he  had  surrendered 
character,  honor,  temporal  prospects,  and  everlasting  hope  ; 
but  to  his  active  mind,  books  of  some  sort  were  a  necessity. 
In  addition  to  English  literature,  he  was  familiar  with  the 
infidel  writings  of  France  and  Germany.  A  school  whose 
baleful  malaria  has  floated  across  the  Atlantic,  and  is 
beginning  to  infect  the  purer  atmosphere  of  our  Western 
continent.  He  was  one  of  those  human  compounds,  by  no 
means  so  infrequent  as  we  are  prone  to  imagine.  With  a 
keen  perception  of  the  beautiful,  and  a  not  unjust  apprecia- 
tion of  all  that  virtue  can  bestow ;  he  was  dragged  on,  not 
blindly,  or  reluctantly,  but  willingly,  and  with  a  knowledge 
of  the  consequences,  to  the  dark  doom  that  sooner  or  later 
overtakes  the  criminal. 

Morally,  the  squatter  was  infinitely  the  better  man,  for 
his  was  in  part  the  sin  of  ignorance.  He  had  but  one 
talent  to  account  for,  while  the  other  had  seven.  Dif- 


BERNARD     LILE.  71 

ferent,  however,  as  they  were  by  nature,  and  still  more 
by  education,  that  gloomy  swamp,  with  its  funeral  vegeta- 
tion of  cypress,  waked  kindred  emotions  in  each,  and  tamed 
alike,  for  an  instant,  tha  tiger  and  the  fiend. 

"  We  must  make  in  for  the  trace,"  said  Montgomery, 
after  a  pause,  "there  is  no  other  crossing  place." 

His  voice  was  low — almost  sad.  His  companion  noticed 
it,  and  would  not  trust  his  own  in  reply,  for  fear  of  be- 
traying a  similar  weakness. 

The  swamp  was  crossed  by  the  horses  slowly,  and  with 
difficulty.  On  the  opposite  side  a  wide  cane-brake  spread 
out  before  them.  Following  the  trace  for  a  short  distance 
further,  they  came  to  an  opening  having  the  appearance 
of  an  old  camping  ground,  used  by  either  Indians  or 
hunters,  on  former  occasions.  Here  they  halted — unsad- 
dled, and  so  fastened  the  horses,  as  to  enable  them  to  feed 
on  the  young  cane  growing  around.  A  fire  was  kindled  ; 
and,  after  paying  their  respects  to  the  leathern  bottle 
Montgomery  had  brought  with  him,  the  less  important 
business  of  supper  began  to  occupy  their  thoughts.  The 
cooking  process  was  simple  enough.  A  young  cane  was 
cut  from  the  adjoining  thicket,  one  end  sharpened,  and  run 
through  a  piece  of  raw  meat.  The  meat  was  then  held  to 
the  fire,  on  this  primitive  spit,  until  about  half  done,  when 
it  was  changed,  and  the  other  side  subjected  for  a  like  time 
to  the  operation  of  heat.  A  cold  hoe-cake  supplied  the 
place  of  a  plate,  and  a  Bowie  knife  did  the  rest. 

Reader,  did  you  ever  try  it  ?  If  not,  take  the  word  of  a 
man  who  has,  that  no  supper  served  up  in  the  most  fault- 
less restaurant  of  New  York  or  Philadelphia,  ever  yielded 
a  flavor  so  delicious  as  a  day's  exercise  in  the  open  air, 
where  the  winds  of  heaven  are  permitted  to  blow  unob- 
structed by  brick  and  mortar,  added  to  a  fast  of  thirteen 
or  fourteen  hours,  imparts  to  this  woodland  cookery. 


72  BERNARD     LILE. 

Under  the  genial  influence  of  the  beverage  contained  in 
Montgomery's  bottle,  the  two  became  gay  and  noisy.  Not 
unfrequently  the  loud  laugh,  ringing  through  the  forest, 
disturbed  the  owl  on  his  solitary  perch.  Now  a  rude 
song  rises  on  the  air,  and  the  panther  moves  uneasily  in  his 
lair,  as  the  night  wind  bears  the  unaccustomed  sound  to 
his  ear.  Who  would  have  deemed  that  these  men  were 
bent  upon  an  errand  of  murder  ?  Alas  !  in  this  world  the 
blackest  crime  often  puts  on  the  gayest  seeming.  It  is 
not  alone  the  sullen  brow,  and  the  gloomy  mood,  which 
speak  to  you  of  violated  laws,  and  outraged  humanity.  If 
sin  wore  always  its  own  unsightly  covering,  many  of  the 
young  and  inexperienced,  who  are  first  its  dupes,  and  then 
its  agents,  would  escape  its  snares ;  and  many  a  human 
tear,  wrung  from  the  mother,  the  wife,  and  the  sister, 
would  dry  up  at  the  fountain. 

"  It  will  be  two  hours,""  said  Montgomery,  as  they  arose 
from  a  hasty  meal  in  the  morning,  "  before  the  game  can 
reach  the  stand  ;  but  accidents  might  happen,  and  it's  best 
to  be  at  our  posts.  There  are  trees  enough  in  the  edge  of 
the  cane  to  cover  us ;  and  they  must  come  out  so  close 
that  we  can  pick  them  off  before  they  know  what  hurts 
'em.  Do  you  take  Simpson  for  your  mark,  I'll  take  the 
stranger. " 

Black  assented  to  this  arrangement.  Each  one  selected 
a  tree,  sufficiently  large  to  screen  him  from  any  prying  eye 
in  the  direction  of  the  swamp,  and  lying  down  behind  it, 
awaited  patiently  the  coming  of  their  intended  victims. 
They  had  occupied  their  hiding  place  but  a  few  minutes, 
when  the  squatter's  attention  was  attracted  by  a  hasty 
exclamation  from  Black. 

"  Damnation,  man  !  look  yonder !  Hell,  and  fury,  we 
must  have  been  bewitched  this  morning." 


BERNARD     LILE.  73 

As  he  spoke  he  pointed  to  a  column  of  smoke,  rising 
majestically  from  their  camp-fire  of  the  night  before. 

"  By  God !  you  are  right,"  answered  the  squatter, 
springing  to  his  feet.  "  It  will  not  do  to  have  that  smoke 
curling  up  among  the  trees  when  Tom  Simpson's  on  the 
trail.  But  that  blunder's  soon  mended." 

With  rapid  strides  he  returned  to  the  fire,  and  carefully 
extinguished  every  burning  brand.  It  was  already  too 
late.  A  mile  off,  in  the  swamp,  the  quick  eye  of  Lile  had 
detected  the  smoke  above  the  tree  tops,  and  pointed  it  out 
to  Simpson.  The  latter  watched  it  for  some  time  without 
giving  expression  to  his  thoughts. 

"  It  is  smoke,  certain ;  and  Bill  Montgomery,  and  Jim 
Black  built  the  fire  that  made  it.  tfhere  is  mighty  little 
credit,  captain,  in  circumventing  a  couple  of  born  idiots 
like  them.  In  the  first  place  they  must  leave  a  trail  a 
counter-hopper  could  follow  :  and  now  they  have  hung  up 
a  sign-board  in  the  clouds,  to  let  us  know  exactly  where 
they  are.  Curse  their  pictures,  they  must  think  they've 
got  an  easy  job  on  hand,  or  they  wouldn't  be  half  so  care- 
less." 

"  The  smoke  has  disappeared,"  responded  Lile,  who  had 
continued  to  watch  it. 

"Worse  and  worse.  If  they  had  let  the  fire  burn,  a 
fellow  who  didn't  know  that  two  such  lambs  as  they  are, 
were  in  this  neck  of  woods,  might  have  thought  it  was  built 
by  some  honest  traveler,  who  had  left  it  burning  when  he 
started  this  morning.  But  any  man,  with  two  grains  of 
sense,  would  know  that  some  devilment  was  afoot,  when 
they  take  the  trouble  to  put  it  out  at  this  time  of  day. 
Well,  Mr.  Black,  this  game  ain't  '  seven  up. '  I  reckon  I 
have  got  about  as  many  advantages  of  you  now,  as  you 
have  had  of  me  for  the  last  five  years.  And,  by  the  eternal 
God,"  he  continued  through  his  ground  teeth,  "I  will 

7 


74  BERNARD     LILE. 

play  them  all.  In  one  hour  more,  if  you  are  not  past 
robbing  at  cards,  and  murdering  on  the  road,'  I  will  sign  a 
lie-bill,  and  give  you  permission  to  paste  it  on  my  old 
father's  door." 

The  hand  that  held  his  rifle  was  clenched  with  a  force 
that  almost  glued  it  to  the  barrel ;  and  the  muscles  of  his 
arm  swelled  beneath  the  tight  buckskin  hunting  shirt,  until 
the  limb  looked  gnarled  and  knotted  as  the  trunk  of  the 
live  oak.  Lile  watched  him,  with  the  interest  a  strong 
man  always  feels,  in  the  physical  development  of  another. 
In  his  heart  he  believed  he  had  never  seen  a  frame  of  such 
tremendous  power,  and  capable  of  so  much  endurance ;  and 
he  thought  how  easy  it  would  be,  with  such  a  companion, 
to  clear  a  pathway  through  a  hundred  opposing  foes. 

Notwithstanding  the  deep  and  concentrated  passion 
boiling  in  every  vein  of  the  hunter's  frame,  he  was  calcu- 
lating, with  cool  precaution,  every  step  to  be  taken. 
Thinking  over  every  tree,  and  hiding  place  on  the  margin 
of  the  swamp,  where  a  foe  might  be  concealed.  Estimating 
every  chance  of  surprise  on  either  side  ;  and  calling  to  mind 
every  inequality  of  the  ground,  that  might  assist  or  ob- 
struct him  in  the  fight.  In  such  a  struggle  he  .  meant  to 
throw  away  no  chance,  however  slight.  The  covering  of  a 
single  cane  stalk  would  not  have  been  dispensed  with.  It 
was  not  that  his  pathway  was  waylaid,  and  his  blood  sought 
by  assassins,  which  so  roused  and  inflamed  him.  It  was  the 
five  years  of  poverty  and  privation  he  had  undergone — the 
consciousness  that  his  parents  had  been  deprived  of  the 
comforts  of  life,  while  all  his  gains  went  to  line  the  pockets 
of  a  swindler.  — This  roused  the  ferocity  whose  very  intense- 
ness  made  rashness  impossible.  True  the  money  had  been 
restored  to  him,  but  the  suffering  could  never  be  obliterated  ; 
and  hate,  the  darkest  and  the  deadliest  hate,  suppressed 
and  almost  mastered  until  now,  found  legitimate  excuse  for 


BERNARD     LILE.  75 

its  gratification,  and  gave  to  conscience  the  power  of  cloth- 
ing the  act  of  vengeance  with  the  mantle  of  self-defence. 

A  little  farther  on  the  swamp  became  harder  and  firmer. 
Here  they  left  the  trace,  and  struck  off  in  a  south-eastern 
direction,  so  as  to  reach  the  firm  ground  about  a  quarter 
of  a  mile  below  where  Black  and  Montgomery  were  posted. 
To  do  this,  wide  leaps  were  occasionally  necessary,  and 
near  the  margin,  a  black  slough,  full  twenty  feet  in  width, 
seemed  to  bar  all  further  progress.  Simpson  stopped  and 
hesitated  ;  but  Lile,  taking  the  hunter's  rifle  in  his  left 
hand,  cleared  it,  with  both  guns,  lightly  and  easily.  Re- 
lieved of  the  weight  of  his  rifle,  his  companion  also  essayed 
the  dangerous  leap.  With  his  utmost  effort  he  barely 
reached  the  outer  edge  of  the  bank.  A  strong  hand 
grasped  his  collar  as  his  foot  struck  the  turf,  and  dragging 
him  forward,  saved  him  from  falling  backward  in  the  slough. 

"  This  is  no  time  to  thank  you,"  he  whispered.  "  A  few 
steps  puts  us  on  firm  ground ;  and  yonder  within  twenty 
yards  of  that  broken  tree,  we  are  certain  to  find  our  very 
particular  friends." 

No  further  time  was  wasted  in  conversation.  Separating 
as  had  been  before  agreed  on — the  one  following  the  edge 
of  the  swamp,  the  other  skirting  the  cane — they  commenced 
their  advance  with  all  the  caution  of  men  trained  in  the 
wiles  of  Indian  warfare.  Never  exposing  their  bodies  for 
more  than  an  instant  at  a  time ;  springing  from  tree  to 
tree  with  lightning  like  rapidity,  they  approached  noise- 
lessly, the  spot  where  the  assassins  were  lying  in  wait.  At 
length,  in  bounding  from  the  shelter  of  one  tree  to  another, 
Lile  lighted  upon  a  dry  cane  stalk  which  cracked  loudly 
beneath  his  weight.  Black  and  Montgomery,  whose  eyes 
had  hitherto  been  bent  chiefly  in  one  direction,  were  in- 
stantly aware  of  their  danger.  They  comprehended  at  a 
glance  that  they  had  been  suspected, — that  Lile  and  Simp- 


76  BERNARD     LILE. 

son  had  consequently  avoided  the  trace,  and  were  now 
approaching  their  position  from  the  flank  with  no  very 
peaceful  intentions.  Surprised  as  they  were,  their  conduct 
exhibited  none  of  the  cowardly  meanness  that  usually  charac- 
terises the  assassin.  Promptly  availing  themselves  of  the 
shelter  of  the  trees  where  they  were  lying — opposing  skill 
to  skill,  and  courage  to  courage,  they  prepared  to  take  the 
chances  of  the  deadly  struggle.  By  a  quick  change  of 
position,  Lile  sought  to  expose  Montgomery  to  the  fire  of 
his  own  or  Simpson's  rifle.  With  equal  rapidity  the 
squatter  bounded  to  another  covert.  The  thick  cane  on 
one  side,  and  the  morass  on  the  other  prevented  any  further 
maneuvering,  and  it  appeared  now  to  be  a  question  of 
patience  alone.  All  at  once  the  squatter  was  startled  by 
the  fierce  growl  of  a  panther  immediately  behind  him. 
Turning  to  face  this  unexpected  foe,  his  head  protruded 
beyond  the  shelter  of  the  tree.  The  sharp  crack  of  a  rifle 
immediately  rang  through  the  forest,  and  Bill  Montgomery 
fell  to  the  earth  a  lifeless  corpse.  Black  heard  the  growl 
of  the  panther,  followed  by  the  rifle  shot,  and  his  eye  was 
attracted  to  the  spot  where  his  late  companion  stood.  It 
was  for  a  moment  only,  but  that  moment  was  fatal.  Dart- 
ing from  the  tree  where  he  was  sheltered,  with  leaps  more 
rapid  than  those  of  the  grey-hound,  Simpson  cleared  the 
space  between  them.  Black  saw  his  danger  when  it  was 
too  .late.  He  attempted  to  raise  his  rifle,  but  the  hunter 
grasped  it  with  one  hand,  while  with  the  other  he  drove  the 
long  bowie  knife  to  the  hilt  in  his  breast,  forcing  it  through 
two  ribs  in  its  bloody  passage.  The  rough  edges  of  the 
bones  grated  harshly  as  the  knife  was  withdrawn  from  the 
wound. — A  glassy  film  came  over  the  eyes  of  the  gambler 
—an  ashy  paleness  spread  around  his  lips — without  a 
word,  without  a  groan  he  sunk  down,  dead  even  before  his 
body  touched  its  mother  earth. 


BERNARD     LILE.  77 

Simpson  gazed  upon  the  prostrate  form  with  an  expres- 
sion half  of  pity,  half  of  gratified  revenge.  Pulling  off  the 
handkerchief  from  the  dead  man's  neck,  he  wiped  away  the 
crimson  stains  from  his  weapon,  and  addressed  the  inani- 
mate body. 

"  I  have  known  yon,  Jim  Black,  a  little  more  than  five 
years,  and  the  most  of  that  time,  I  have  had  a  presentiment 
that  I  would  kill  you  some  day.  You  have  brought  it  on 
yourself,  when  you  had  only  to  keep  out  of  my  way  twenty- 
four  hours  longer,  and  I  should  have  been  gone  beyond 
your  reach.  You  electioneered  hard  for  a  bloody  grave, 
and  you  have  got  it.  If  you  were  alive  now  you  would 
own  yon  deserved  it.  The  only  good  thing  any  man  can 
put  into  your  funeral  sermon,  is,  that  you  were  game  to  the 
back  bone — I  never  knew  you  stand  by,  and  see  the  strong 
oppress  the  weak ;  and  never  heard  of  your  cowering  to  an 
angry  frown,  if  the  devil  himself  wore  it." 

Lile,  who  had  reloaded  his  rifle,  now  approached, 
saying. 

"  That  rush  was  gallantly  made,  my  friend,  but  it  waa 
very  bad  generalship.  After  Montgomery  was  disposed  of 
we  could  easily  have  placed  Mr.  Black  between  two  fires, 
where  either  you  or  I  could  shoot  him  without  the  slightest 
risk." 

"  There  was  no  risk  about  it,  captain,  I  knew  that  if  I 
could  ever  catch  his  eye  off  me,  he  was  gone.  I  had  been 
wishing  for  five  minutes  that  a  limb  would  fall,  or  some- 
thing would  happen  to  make  him  look  round.  That 
panther  did  the  business,  and  it  has  put  me  in  such  good 
humor  with  the  critters,  that  I  don't  think  I  shall  shoot  one 
for  a  year  to  come. " 

"No  panther  was  near." 

"  Why,  I  heard  his  growl  as  plain  as  I  hear  you  now." 

"  Nevertheless  there  was  no  panther  about.  Nature  be- 
7* 


78  BERNARD     LILE. 

stowed  upon  me  the  gift  of  ventriloquism,  and  as  I  found 
it  useful,  I  practiced  it  carefully  when  I  was  a  sojourner  ill 
the  far  east.  When  I  found  that  Montgomery  had  no 
notion  of  showing  any  part  of  his  person  for  me  to  practice 
at,  I  concluded  I  would  try  what  effect  an  angry  panther 
at  his  heels  would  produce.  It  startled  him,  as  I  expected, 
and  a  half  ounce  ball  through  his  brain,  saved  him  from 
the  mortification  of  finding  out  how  badly  he  had  been 
cheated." 

"Well,"  replied  the  hunter,  "this  is  the  third  wrinkle 
I've  got  within  the  week.  First,  I  found  out  that  I  was 
no  pumpkins  in  a  scuffle.  Next,  that  I  couldn't  jump  for 
corn  shucks.  And  now,  after  ten  years'  practice,  it  turns 
out  that  I  am  tolerable  ordinary  even  at  a  bush  fight.  I 
shouldn't  be  surprised  if  it  would  end  by  your  showing 
me  the  road  to  San  Antonio,  instead  of  my  guiding  you." 


BEKNARD     LILB.   •  79 


CHAPTER    VI. 


« Innumerous  o'er  their  human  prey, 

Grim  errors  hang  the  hoarded  sorrow; 
Through  vapors  gleams  the  present  day, 
And  darkness  wraps  the  morrow." 

OUR  story  now  changes  from  the  free  forest  to  the 
crowded  city.  From  the  rude  scenes  and  daring  deeds 
of  the  West,  to  the  velvet  ottomans  and  the  courtly  vices 
abounding  where  spires  and  cupolas  rise  to  meet  the 
clouds,  instead  of  the  tall  cottonwood,  the  majestic  oak, 
or  the  towering  chestnut.  In  one  of  those  splendid  man- 
sions in  the  city  of  New  York,  whose  decorations  rival  the 
gorgeous  magnificence  of  an  Eastern  palace,  a  throng  of 
pleasure's  votaries  had  assembled.  Diamonds  glittered 
beneath  the  soft  light  of  the  chandeliers,  and  eyes,  brighter 
than  the  jewels  about  them,  reminded  you  of  Mahomet's 
promises  to  the  faithful,  when  the  war-worn  soldier  of  the 
Crescent  passed  from  the  battle-field  to  the  arms  of  the 
Houris  who  awaited  his  coming.  Music  floated  through 
the  perfumed  air  of  the  crowded  saloons,  and  now  and  then 
the  low  laugh  of  a  young  girl,  richer  and  sweeter  than  all 
instrumental  melody  combined,  fell  upon  the  charmed  ear, 
and  made  the  listener  dream  of  heaven.  The  camel-driver 
of  Mecca  was  but  half  an  impostor.  The  daring  courage, 
the  lofty  genius,  and  the  matchless  wisdom  that"  led  him 
on  to  empire  over  shattered  thrones  and  broken  sceptres, 
were  emanations  from  the  God  whose  prophet  he  pre- 
tended to  be,  and  stamped  with  probability  the  mission 
with  which  he  claimed  to  be  entrusted.  He  searched  all 
the  depths  of  the  human  heart — tried  all,  strings,  until,  at 


80  '   BERNARD     LILE. 

last,  his  hand  rested  on  a  chord  that  throbbed  alike  in  the 
breast  of  the  peasant  and  the  prince — the  scholar  and  the 
boor.  Discarding  the  temptation  of  gold  for  avarice,  of 
glory  for  ambition,  of  luxury  and  ease  for  indolence,  he 
seized  upon  one  all-pervading,  all-alluring  passion.  He 
held  out  one  reward  for  danger  and  privation,  for  toil, 
famine  and  death.  When  the  glittering  stars  of  the  Cres- 
cent waved  over  him,  the  soldier  thought  of  the  dark-eyed 
girls  his  prophet  had  described  in  language  whose  prose  is 
poetry— whose  poetry  sings  itself  into  music.  Amid  the 
deadly  roar  of  battle,  their  songs  were  floating  around  him, 
and  the  lance's  point  was  to  him  a  bridal  bed.  Stretched 
upon  the  cumbered  plain,  he  looked  upward  to  the  rounded 
forms,  the  swelling  bosoms,  and  the  love-lighted  coun- 
tenances which  seemed  impatient  at  his  delay,  and  the 
bloody  sod  became  a  couch  of  roses,  and  wounds  and 
death  but  lovely  ministers  to  the  softest  pleasures.  Mark 
Anthony  threw  away  a  world  for  Cleopatra's  lips,  and 
Mark  Anthony  was  but  a  type  of  his  race.  Speculative 
school-men  may  talk  about  the  fanaticism  of  the  early 
Moslem,  and  attribute  to  religious  zeal  his  daring  and  his 
triumphs.  But  men  who  have  known  the  world,  who  have 
turned  over  page  after  page  of  the  human  heart,  who  have 
seen  it  in  the  sunshine  and  the  shadow,  who  have  watched 
its  throbbiugs  from  the  palace  to  the  hovel,  will  form  more 
correct  opinions.  Fanaticism  was  indeed  burning  within 
him,  but  it  was  the  fanaticism  of  love.  Woman  was  the 
goddess  of  his  idolatry — her  lips  the  nectar  for  which  his 
soul  was  athirst — her  embrace  the  heaven  for  which  he 
panted.  No  wonder  he  triumphed.  No  wonder  that, 
with  such  rewards  before  him,  two  continents  were  insuf- 
ficient to  stay  his  victorious  tread,  and,  at  last,  the  wild 
music  of  the  Saracen  mingled  with  the  roar  of  the  waves, 
beating  on  the  Western  shore  of  Europe. 


*  *' 

BERNARD     LILE.  81 

In  all  our  moods,  in  spite  of  all  our  struggles,  the  charms 
of  woman  sway  and  bend  us  as  easily  as  the  north  wind 
bows  the  waving  grass.  Even  frailty,  in  such  a  tenement, 
catches  the  hues  of  Eden,  and  the  pleased  senses  lull  the 
severer  judgment  to  sleep.  Look  upon  the  lovely  beings 
now  gliding  through  yonder  stately  mansion.  The  very 
air  they  breathe  has  turned  to  incense,  and  all  things  about 
them  are  bathed  in  a  glorious  beauty  beyond  the  artist's 
skill  to  paint — beyond  the  human  tongue  to  syllable.  Yet 
all  were  not  unstained  by  something  worse  than  levity. 
Few  could  expose  a  breast  no  touch  of  sin  had  ever 
darkened — while  over  many  of  the  richest  flowers  blooming 
there  the  hot  breath  of  passion  had  passed,  leaving  an 
adder's  egg  to  be  warmed  to  life  among  leaves  whose  out- 
ward seeming  was  unchanged,  and  whose  fragrance  still 
was  sweet. 

Reclining  on  a  sofa  close  to  the  music-stand  was  a  young 
officer  to  whom  the  reader  has  been  introduced.  He 
seemed  like  one  upon  whom  the  enchantments  around  had 
lost  their  power,  and  his  brow  was  darkened  by  thoughts 
that  had  no  business  there  at  such  a  time.  He  was  roused 
by  a  light  tap  on  the  arm,  and  a  sweet  voice  murmured — 

"You  are  melancholy  to-night,  Mr.  Wilson." 

He  turned  quickly,  and  beside  him  was  one  who  might 
have  served  as  a  model  for  the  Grecian  artist,  who  wandered 
from  isle  to  isle,  whispered  his  tale  of  love  in  every  maiden's 
ear,  treasured  up  every  beauty  and  every  grace  in  his 
memory,  and  then  combining  them  all,  produced  his  ideal 
of  the  Goddess  of  Love. 

"Pardon  me,  Mrs.  Winter,  but  I  knew  not  that  you 
were  here,  and  "Paradise  would  be  gloomy  without  you." 

"  Pshaw !  I  thought  better  of  you.  Quit  compliments, 
or  give  them  the  spice  of  originality." 

"  That  were  Indeed  difficult.    I  doubt  if  there  is  a  single 


82  BERNARD     LILE. 

flower  in  that  wide  field  Genius  has  not  already  gathered 
and  laid  at  your  feet." 

"  Upon  my  word,  you  improve.  But  give  me  your  arm 
— I  wish  to  take  a  stroll  with  you  through  these  rooms ; 
first  to  show  you  off  as  my  beau,  and  next  because  I  am 
dying  of  curiosity,  and  I  know  no  one  else  who  can  relieve 
me." 

"I  take  it  for  granted,"  he  remarked,  after  advancing  a 
few  steps,  "that  your  last  motive  is  the  controlling  one. 
Pray  tell  me  in  what  I  can  gratify  you. " 

"Now,  that  is  what  I  call  coming  to  the  point,  and 
smacks  of  the  soldier  much  more  than  the  fashionable  gen- 
tleman. But  I  am  only  a  fashionable  woman,  and  cannot 
afford  to  be  so  direct.  Besides,  you  know  but  little  of 
woman's  nature  if  you  suppose  that  even  the  gratification 
of  her  curiosity  could  take  precedence  of  the  vanity  of  being 
escorted  by  so  faultless  a  gentleman  as  Mr.  Robert  Wilson. 
Stop,"  she  continued,  as  he  was  about  to  reply,  "the  com- 
pliment was  given  gratis,  and  I  want  no  return,  at  least  not 
in  the  same  coin." 

Approaching  a  deep  window,  she  drew  her  companion 
within  the  heavy  drapery  of  satin  and  gold. 

"  There,"  she  said,  "  we  have  done  enough  to  be  talked 
about  for  the  next  half  hour.  At  least  twenty  of  my  bosom 
friends  will  be  whispering  to  their  bosom  friends,  that  a 
desperate  flirtation  is  going  on  between  you  and  me ;  and 
more  than  one  will  contrive  to  let  my  husband  understand, 
in  the  most  innocent  manner  imaginable,  that  I  am  madly 
in  love  with  a  young  officer  of  the  army. " 

"  A  pleasant  intimation  truly.  And  pray  what  will  he 
say  to  all  that  ?" 

"  Say  1  Nothing.  He  will  forget  that  he  has  heard  it 
before  supper  is  over.  He  never  loved  me  enough  to  be 
jealous. " 


BERNARD     LILE.  83 

"And  did  you  love  him  ?" 

"  Fie  1  for  shame.  You  will  give  me  a  horrid  idea  of 
your  West  Point  training  directly.  I  do  not  care,  though, 
if  I  do  answer  this  one ;  but,  remember,  you  must  ask  me 
no  more  such  questions.  No,  I  did  not.  He  had  enormous 
wealth — I  had  some  beauty,  and  more  accomplishments.  It 
suited  him  to  have  a  fine  woman  at  the  head  of  his  estab- 
lishment; it  suited  me  to  have  an  establishment.  The 
word  love  was  not  written  in  our  marriage  contract,  and  I 
do  not  think  it  was  mentioned  by  the  priest  at  the  altar. 
I  never  loved  any  one  else.  I  am  sure  he  never  did.  I  do 
all  I  can  to  make  his  home  pleasant  and  agreeable.  He 
humors  all  my  whims,  and  so  we  are  the  best  possible 
friends,  while  neither  makes  the  slightest  pretensions  to 
more.  There,  sir,"  she  continued,  "  you  have  the  confession 
of  a  pretty  woman,  which  can  do  you  no  good,  and  may 
cost  you  something ;  for  I  do  not  make  confessions  gratis, 
if  I  do  sometimes  pay  compliments  in  that  way." 

"  I  can  think  of  nothing  you  could  ask  that  is  not  granted 
beforehand." 

"  Thank  you.  If  you  please,  we  will  proceed  to  business 
after  your  own  fashion — plainly,  and  without  circumlocu- 
tion. Rumor  has  it  that  there  has  recently  arrived  in  this 
great  city  a  Circassian  or  Georgian,  or  some  other  Asiatic 
Princess,  beautiful  as  an  angel,  and  rich  as  she  is  beautiful. 
It  is  added  that  you  have  been  so  fortunate  as  to  make  her 
acquaintance.  Is  the  story  true,  or  any  part  of  it !" 

It  was  well  that  the  heavy  curtains  shut  out  the  light  of 
the  chandeliers ;  for  a  tell-tale  paleness  spread  over  the 
countenance  of  the  young  officer,  and  any  one  endowed  with 
half  the  shrewdness  and  knowledge  of  society  possessed  by 
his  fair  companion,  would  have  read  his  secret  at  a  glance. 
The  question  was  so  sudden,  so  different  from  any  thing  he 


84  BEENAEDLILE. 

expected,  that  the  power  of  utterance  failed,  and  he  almost 
gasped  for  breath. 

"You  do  not  answer  me.  Has  my  first  question  proved 
too  much  for  all  your  liberal  professions  ?" 

With  difficulty  he  commanded  himself  sufficiently  to 
reply.  "  I  was  thinking  what  interest  you  could  possibly 
have  in  such  a  matter." 

"  None,  it  may  be,  or  it  may  be  a  great  deal.  Is  the 
story  true  ?" 

"It  is.     At  least  I  believe  so." 

"  One  thing  more.  You  must  introduce  me.  Do  not 
think,"  she  added  quickly,  "that  I  do  not  see  and  under- 
stand all  the  folly  and  meanness  of  running  after  titled 
strangers,  who  accept  our  hospitalities  with  an  air  of  con- 
descension, and  repay  the  kindness  we  lavish  upon  them  by 
unmeasured  abuse  or  unfeeling  criticism.  I  feel  the  degra- 
dation of  such  vile  sycophancy ;  but  it  is  the  fashion,  and 
while  it  is  so,  I  must  swim  with  the  tide." 

Seizing  eagerly  upon  the  opportunity  thus  offered  to 
change  the  conversation,  Mr.  Wilson  replied,  "Why  not 
establish  a  better  fashion  ?  Why  not  lead  the  way  in 
teaching  our  countrywomen  to  respect  American  merit 
and  American  virtue  ?  Believe  me,  there  is  more  genuine 
worth  in  one  honest  American  heart,  than  in  a  hundred 
of  the  worthless  scions  of  a  rotten  aristocracy." 

"  Perhaps  so.  But  it  is  not  worth  we  seek  in  society. 
An  easy  address  and  polished  manners  are'worth  a  thou- 
sand virtues." 

"  Oh,  what  a  commentary,"  answered  the  young  man, 
with  emotion,  "  upon  that  gay  throng  through  which  we 
just  now  passed.  In  the  islands  of  the  East  there  is  said 
to  be  a  reptile,  whose  glossy  skin  of  blended  colors  emits  a 
light  so  beautiful  and  exhales  an  odor  so  delicious,  that 
the  traveller  cannot  resist  the  temptation  to  gather  it  to 


BERNARD     LILE.  85 


his  bosom,  though  he  knows  its  touch  is  deadly.  How 
like  to  that  reptile  is  the  fashionable  world  you  describe ; 
and  surely  you,  who  are  its  queen,  must  know  it  well." 

"  Mr.  Wilson,  if  most  of  my  acquaintances  had  talked 
to  me  in  the  strain  you  have  done  to-night,  I  should  have 
laughed  in  their  faces,  or  turned  on  my  heel  and  left  them 
to  their  own  meditations.  If  I  have  not  done  the  same 
thing  with  you,  it  is,  partly,  because  I  suppose  you  did  not 
care  one  straw  whether  I  did  or  not." 

"You  wronged  me  then.  I  should  have  cared  a  great 
deal ;  for  it  would  have  made  me  think  less  of  you  than 
I  hope  ever  to  do.  It  would  pain  me  deeply  to  believe 
that  so  fair  a  shrine  held  nothing  within,  the  pure  might 
love,  the  good  claim  kindred  with,  or  the  enthusiastic 
worship." 

The  splendid  woman  he  addressed  looked  down  with 
unconcealed  embarrassment ;  but  when  she  spoke  her  voice 
was  clear  and  sweet.  "  I  ouglit  to  be  angry,  but  in  truth 
I  am  better  pleased  than  I  care  to  express.  I  am  not  the 
heartless  , thing  the  world,  my  world,  believes  me,  and  I 
am  glad  you  know  it.  Excuse  me,  however,  for  saying 
this  conversation  is  rather  too  serious  for  a  young  gentleman 
of  twenty-three  or  four,  and  a  young  woman  scarcely  his 
senior.  When  shall  I  have  the  pleasure  of  an  introduction 
to  this  Eastern  Peri  ?" 

It  was  now  the  lieutenant's  turn  to  feel  embarrassed. 
He  hesitated,  stammered,  and  at  last  said  he  was  afraid  his 
acquaintance  was  too  slight  to  venture  on  taking  such  a 
liberty. 

"  Go  and  ask  her,  man.  I  never  intended  to  run  the 
risk  of  being  turned  away  from  her  door." 

"  Mrs.  Winter,"  he  replied  gravely,  almost  sternly,  "  you 
know  not  what  you  ask.  Besides,  if  your  object  be  what 
I  suspect,  it  would  be  useless.  Her  faith  is  Mahometan — 

8 


86  BEKNARDLILE. 

she  receives  few  visitors — goes  to  no  public  assemblages, 
and  could  not  be  drawn,  by  any  earthly  inducement,  into 
the  brilliant  society  over  which  you  preside. " 

"  Is  this  so  ?  Then  half  my  interest  in  her  is  already 
gone.  I  do  not  care  to  conceal  from  you  that  it  was  the 
tclai,  of  first  introducing  a  princess,  young,  rich,  and  of 
peerless  beauty,  to  the  exclusives  of  upper-tendom,  which 
made  me  so  anxious  for  an  introduction.'^ 

"  As  that  indncement  no  longer  exists,  I  suppose  I  may 
consider  your  application  withdrawn." 

"  Quite  the  contrary.  I  am  a  true  woman,  Mr.  Wilson. 
I  see  there  are  difficulties  in  the  way,  and  those  very  dif- 
ficulties determine  me  to  persist  in  my  original  purpose. 
Of  course  I  may  depend  on  your  assistance  ?" 

"  Pardon  me,  madam ;  but  in  this  matter  I  cannot  aid 
you." 

"  And  why  not  ?"  she  asked,  angrily.  "  I  fancy  that  the 
acquaintance  of  Pauline  Winter  would  bring  no  discredit 
even  upon  a  princess,  at  least  in  this  republican  land ;  and 
that  a  young  lieutenant  of  the  army  need  not  be  ashamed 
of  the  slight  intimacy  implied  by  calling  upon  a  stranger 
in  her  society." 

"  Now  you  are  angry  and  unjust.  I  will  not  answer  you 
with  taunts,  as  I  might  do ;  for  that  young  officer,  obscure 
as  you  deem  him,  unfriended  as  he  is,  with  no  fortune  but 
honor,  a  good  sword,  and  a  strong  arm  to  wield  it,  stands 
far  too  high  in  his  own  esteem  to  wound  a  woman's  feel- 
ings. I  cannot  do  what  you  a*sk,  and  I  will  not.  Neither 
will  I  stay  and  listen  to  insults'  I  cannot  resent.  With 
perfect  sincerity,  I  wish  you  pleasant  slumbers,  and  a 
happy  waking." 

He  turned,  but  her  hand  was  on  his  arm.  "  Stay.  We 
must  not  part  in  anger.  Excuse  my  hasty  speech;  for 
indeed,  indeed,  I  meant  not  what  you  have  chosen  to 


BERNAEDLILE.  87 

impute  to  me.     But  you  must  admit  your  refusal  to  grant 
me  so  slight  a  favor  is  very,  very  strange." 

"  Slight !"  and  his  whole  frame  shuddered  as  he  re- 
peated the  word.  "  Slight  1  I  tell  you,  granting  that  favor 
would  go  far  towards  making  me  the  thing  I  most  loathe 
on  earth — a  villain,  an  ungrateful,  teacherous  villain." 

"More  mystery.  I  have  heard  too  much,  or  not 
enough." 

"  Then  hear  more.  Ever  since  I  have  known  ZerahLile, 
I  have  been  conscious  of  a  wild  intoxication  in  her  presence 
— something  I  had  never  felt  before — something  I  could 
not  understand.  Still  I  persuaded  myself  it  was  not  love 
Self-delusion  was  easy,  for  it  was  pleasant.  But  at  last 
the  truth  broke  on  me,  though  not  until  my  veins  were 
filled  with  a  fiery  poison,  compared  with  which  the  adder's 
would  be  innocent.  For  such  a  malady  there  was  no  cure. 
There  was,  however,  one  way  to  preserve  my  own  respect, 
and  prevent  her  from  discovering  that  I  had  cherished  a 
hopeless  passion.  That  course  I  adopted,  and  swore  never 
again  to  enter  her  presence  of  my  own  free  will." 

"  You  love  her.  Why  not  tell  her  so,  and  sue  for  her's 
in  return.  I  thought  you  held  the  opinion  that  an  Ameri- 
can gentleman  might  pretend  to  the  love  of  a  queen." 

"  So  I  do.  Would  to  God  there  was  no  barrier  but 
that.  Unfortunately  she  is  already  married  to  an  Ameri- 
can gentleman,  and,"  he  added,  with  unconscious  sarcasm, 
"loves  her  husband." 

"  Married  !"  ejaculated  the  lady,  and  the  thought  flashed 
over  her  mind  that  if  she  could  not  secure  the  princess,  it 
would  be  no  mean  triumph  to  capture  the  husband.  "Mar- 
ried !  Who  is  her  husband  ?  where  is  he  now  ?  and  what 
is  he  ?» 

"As  to  who  he  is,  I  only  know  that  he  is  my  benefactor. 
As  to  where  he  is,  I  am  equally  ignorant,  except  that  he 


88  BERNARD     LILE. 

told  me  he  was  going  on  a  long  journey.  What  he  is,  can 
be  more  easily  answered.  He  is  a  man  of  wonderful  en- 
dowments— gifted  beyond  the  sons  of  earth  with  strength, 
courage,  genius — all  that  can  allure,  and  all  that  can  com- 
mand. Long  a  soldier  in  other  lands,  he  returns  to  his 
own  in  the  meridian  of  life,  to  pass  the  remnant  of  his 
days  on  the  free  soil  where  his  infancy  was  rocked." 

There  was  a  pause.  The  man  was  wrapped  in  his  own 
bitter  reflections.  The  lady  was  regretting  the  failure  of 
her  scheme  to  dazzle  the  fashionables  of  the  good  city  of 
Gotham.  She  was  the  first  to  break  the  silence.  "  I  pity 
you."  (Perhaps  she  felt  some  portion  of  the  sympathy 
she  expressed.)  "  Prom  my  soul  I  pity  you.  Our  con- 
ference," she  added,  "has  lasted  too  long.  Take  me  back 
to  the  music  room,  and  try  to  look  more  cheerful,  or  they 
will  swear  I  have  blasted  all  your  young  hopes  in  the  bud." 

As  they  walked  on  he  drew  a  card  from  his  pocket,  and, 
stopping  beneath  one  of  the  lights,  wrote  on  it  the  name 
and  address  of  Monsieur  Evadne.  "  I  could  not,"  he  re- 
marked, as  he  handed  it  to  her, "  comply  with  your  request. 
But  here  is  the  address  of  one  who  probably  can.  He  is 
a  banker,  and  is  doubtless  known  to  Mr.  Winter. " 

"  You  are  very  kind ;  but  I  am  afraid  I  shall  not  have 
the  heart  to  pursue  the  matter  any  further." 

Nevertheless  she  put  away  the  card  carefully  in  her 
bosom. 

And  this  is  fashionable  life.  High  capacities  for  good 
frittered  away  upon  idle  follies.  Talents  that  might  be 
employed  to  improve  and  enlighten  a  generation,  wasted 
upon  petty  rivalries,  where  even  a  triumph  leaves  a  sting, 
and  the  mortification  of  failure  carries  always  the  added 
bitterness  of  self-contempt.  Where  the  heart  is  deadened, 
the  feelings  indurated — every  pure  and  every  lofty  passion 
withered,  and  the  holiest  emotions  crushed  and  trampled 


BERNARD     LILE.  89 

on  by  a  selfishness  so  low,  so  mean,  so  despicable,  that 
the  haughty  Lucifer  turns  in  disgust  from  the  reptiles 
crawling  into  his  kingdom,  and  leaves  to  meaner  instru- 
ments the  task  of  torturing  a  littleness  his  proud  and  lofty 
nature  cannot  stoop  to  punish. 

Let  us  turn  from  the  scenes  where  splendor  only  wraps 
corruption  in  its  gaudy  mantle,  to  follow  the  footsteps  of 
one  whose  mind  is  yet  unpolluted — whose  instincts  are 
still  upright  and  honest.  Lingering  a  few  minutes  after 
his  fair  companion  had  left  him,  he  made  his  way  unob- 
served to  the  front  entrance,  and  was  soon  upon  Broadway, 
that  great  thoroughfare  which  silence  and  solitude  have 
long  since  abandoned.  Where  the  beggar  and  the  mer- 
chant prince  meet  upon  terms  of  equality — where  the 
morning  always  dawns  upon  brows  blackened  by  crime, 
or  haggard  with  dissipation — where  the  frail  of  one  sex 
and  the  restless  and  the  wretched  of  the  other  make  a  con- 
tinuous stream  from  the  first  lamp-lighting  to  the  rising  of 
the  sun,  when  they  disappear  in  dark  alleys,  or  darker 
human  dens,  to  give  place  to  the  sons  of  avarice, 

"  Whose  hearts  of  human  flesh, 
,.  Beneath  the  petrifying  touch  of  gold, 
Have  grown  as  stony  as  the  trodden  ways." 

Not  once,  but  often,  the  pen  of  genius  has  been  employed 
in  describing  a  great  city  at  night,  and  giving  substance  to 
the  impressions  it  never  fails  to  make.  But  it  is  in  the 
early  morning  that  its  deepest  secrets  are  revealed — its 
widest  contrasts  manifest.  It  is  then  that  the  laborer, 
passing  to  his  daily  toil,  burdened  with  the  implements  of 
his  trade,  makes  his  way  with  difficulty  through  the  gilded 
equipages,  and  liveried  footmen  about  some  rich  man's 
mansion — looks  up  at  the  illuminated  windows,  and  won- 
ders how  it  happens  that  he,  with  all  the  attributes  of  a 

8* 


90  BEENAEDLILE. 

man — heart,  brain,  feeling,  honor,  virtue  —  should  be 
doomed  to  unceasing  toil,  while  the  mere  caricatures  of 
men  who  fill  those  luxurious  chambers,  whispering  soft 
nothings  into  ears  incapable  of  comprehending  the  language 
of  intellect ;  or  moving  with  slow  and  mincing  gait  over 
Brussels  carpets  softer  and  warmer  than  the  couch  from 
which  the  laborer  has  just  risen ;  or  lounging  on  a  sofa, 
fan  in  hand,  to  recover  from  the  excessive  fatigue  of  having 
danced  two  sets  in  succession ;  should  live  on  in  ease  and 
indolence,  staining  the  current  of  society  with  the  vices 
that  alike  distinguish  them  from,  and  sink  them  below,  the 
chattering  monkeys  of  interior  Africa.  Pass  on  honest 
son  of  toil,  and  repine  not  at  the  seeming  hardness  of  the 
dispensation.  Yours  is  far  the  happier  lot.  No  French 
cooks,  and  no  artificial  stimulants  are  needed  to  give  sweet- 
ness to  the  food  you  have  earned  by  the  sweat  of  your 
brow.  Sleep  comes  unbidden  to  the  hard  couch  of  poverty, 
while  the  downy  pillows  of  the  dissolute  woo  the  gentle 
goddess  in  vain,  and  drugs  and  opiates  purchase  the  fevered 
slumber  that  is  not  rest,  nor  even  forgetfulness,  but  a  heavy 
stupor  peopled  by  the  spectres  of  conscience.  You  may 
fold  your  wife  to  your  bosom  with  the  proud  conviction, 
that,  though  the  rough  winds  of  winter  may  have  played 
among  her  tresses,  and  the  summer's  sun  burned  its  freckles 
upon  her  cheek,  no  lawless  lust  has  ever  sipped  a  single 
dew-drop  from  her  lip.  The  little  infant  who  climbs  upon 
your  knee,  bears  your  image  reflected  in  its  tiny  features, 
and  when  his  young  breath,  sweeter  than  the  odor  of  rose- 
leaves,  is  fanning  your  cheek,  no  dark  suspicion  checks  the 
outpouring  of  a  father's  love,  and  turns  to  gall  a  father's 
fondness. 

A  few  stars  yet  linger  in  heaven.  Like  the  pale  watchers 
by  a  dead  man's  corpse,  they  have  looked  down  through 
the  long  night  upon  corruption,  and  now  they  are  drop- 


v. 

N 
BERNARD     LILE.  91 

ping  away;  one  by  one,  worn,  wearied,  sad  and  sorrowful. 
The  lamps  still  burn  along  the  street,  and  the  curtain  of 
night  is  but  half  withdrawn.  Mark  that  closely  muffled 
female  hurrying  rapidly  up  the  pavement.  Her  husband 
is  from  home.  Her  children  have  been  left  untended  and 
uncared  for.  She  has  passed  the  night  in  a  libertine's  arms, 
and  the  trembling  fears  of  the  morning  are  treading  on  the 
heels  of  the  guiltyt  joys  of  the  evening.  With  nervous  haste 
she  is  returning  to  the  bed  she  has  dishonored,  shuddering 
at  every  step  lest  her  disguise  should  be  penetrated  by  the 
prying  eyes  of  some  acquaintance,  who,  she  knows,  would 
not  hesitate  to  borrow  her  plate  for  a  dinner  party,  and 
publish  the  shame  of  the  lender  to  give  zest  to  the  enter- 
tainment. 

Here  comes  one  of  a  different  order.  That  opera  dress 
proclaims  that  she  too  has  passed  the  night  from  home. 
But  on  that  brow,  lovely  as  it  is,  sin  has  set  its  signet  ring, 
and  shame  long  since  blushed  itself  to  death.  She  has  left 
her  lover  (what  a  revolting  application  of  the  word  !)  not 
because  she  feared  detection  and  exposure,  but  that  Tie  did. 
And  now  she  is  walking  leisurely  to  one  of  those  palaces 
of  prostitution,  where  a  few  short  years  of  splendid  sensu- 
ality are  purchased  by  a  death  of  misery,  and  an  eternity 
of  woe. 

There  is  another,  the  heavy  cross  on  whose  bosom  be- 
tokens that  her  faith  is  Catholic.  She  has  lingered  at  the 
confessional,  but  the  warm  kiss  and  the  double  benediction 
at  parting  proves  that  the  penitent's  long  visit  to  the 
priest's  chamber  has  been  a  sweet  one  to  him,  and  the  ex- 
pression of  her  countenance,  as  she  trips  homeward,  denotes 
that  the  penance  imposed  was  not  severe  or  displeasing. 

Issuing  from  yonder  cellar  is  a  knot  of  drunken  revelers, 
who  have  been  vexing  the  ear  of  night  with  ribald  songs 
and  ribald  jests.  Squandering  the  hard  earnings  of  an 


92  BERNARD     LILE. 

industrious  parent — wandering  through  life  without  an  aim, 
without  an  object,  save  the  gratification  of  beastly  appetites. 
With  no  tear  for  the  wretched — no  word  of  hope  for  the 
despairing — no  balm  for  the  suffering.  A  foul  blot  upon 
the  moral  creation,  festering  and  rankling,  and  only  en- 
durable to  the  beholder  because  he  knows  it  is  eating  away 
its  own  existence.  Decay  and  death  are  written  in  the 
blood-shot  eye,  and  on  the  bloated  face,  and  the  worm  is 
already  hungering  for  his  loathsome  banquet. 

A  little  further  on  you  may  behold  a  young  man  with 
downcast  look  and  staggering  gait.  Intoxication  has  not 
caused  that  reeling  weakness,  or  filled  his  swimming  brain 
with  fire.  He  has  passed  his  first  night  at  a  gaming  table, 
and  the  hell  of  earth  has  given  him  a  foretaste  of  the  hell 
hereafter.  Within  a  twelvemonth  his  employer  will  be 
robbed — his  own  fair  fame  blasted — the  gray  hairs  of  his 
parents  dishonored — and  a  convict's  cell  in  the  penitentiary 
his  narrow  dwelling-place. 

But  is  there  nothing  pure  and  lovely — nothing  upon 
which  the  eye  may  dwell  without  repugnance,  or  the  heart 
treasure  among  its  holiest  memories  ?  Yes,  much,  very 
much  an  angel  might  look  down  upon  with  gladness. 
Here  the  widest  charity  atones  for  the  narrowest  selfish- 
ness. The  loftiest  aspiration  relieves  the  lowest  instinct. 
The  purest  piety  combats  the  blackest  infidelity.  Truth, 
Genius,  Poetry,  and  Eloquence  move  with  unstained  gar- 
ments among  their  debasing  contrasts.  A  world  is  gathered 
here.  A  human  world,  and  a  world  of  beasts  and  reptiles. 
How  delightful  the  one,  if  it  could  be  separated  from  the 
horrors  of  the  other ! 

Our  hero  paused  not  to  speculate  upon  the  moving  mass 
with  which  he  mingled.  In  his  own  bosom  there  was  food 
enough  for  thought.  A  great  temptation  had  sprung  upon 
him — he  had  yielded,  for  he  was  human.  To  know  Zerah 


BERNARDLILE.  93 

and  not  to  love  her,  was  to  him  an  impossibility.  Rapidly 
and  strongly  that  love  had  twined  itself  about  his  heart 
strings,  and  there  it  would  remain  forever.  But  he  was 
not  one  to  deceive  himself  with  the  vain  hope  that  it  could 
be  returned,  nor  did  he  wish  it.  From  him  she  was  fenced 
round  by  a  double  wall  of  gratitude  and  honor.  Had  these 
defences  not  existed,  it  would  still  have  been  the  same 
For  worlds  he  would  not  have  breathed  one  word  of  pas- 
sion in  her  ear.  Duty  and  self-respect  required  him  to 
avoid  the  object  of  his  idolatry,  and  prudence  assured  him 
that  distance  was  his  best  protection.  In  his  solitary 
chamber  he  thought  over  the  past,  and  pondered  on  the 
future.  To  say  that  no  bitterness  mingled  with  his  medita- 
tions would  be  to  exempt  him  from  the  frailties  of  humanity 
Yet  was  there  no  wavering,  no  unmanly  attempts  at  self- 
deception — no  dishonoring  dreams  of  a  guilty  triumph  in 
a  trusting  husband's  absence.  She  was  to  him  ."  a  crystal 
gilded  shrine."  Once  the  thought  flashed  over  his  mind 
that  Lile  might  never  return — that  she  might  again  be  free 
But  almost  instantly  followed  the  question.  What  of  it  ? 
Would  she  love  me  then  ?  And  the  answer  came,  from  the 
inmost  depths  of  his  own  self-partial  bosom,  NO.  Like  the 
proudest  of  England's  Peeresses,  she  would  turn  from  a 
second  suitor  with  the  haughty  response,  "  Equal  the  deeds 
of  Marlborough  before  you  seek  the  hand  that  once  was 
his."  Hour  after  hour  he  paced  his  little  room,  and  when 
the  sunbeams  stole  through  the  window,  he  threw  himself 
into  a  chair  and  penned  a  letter  to  the  Secretary  of  War. 
He  asked  to  be  relieved  from  the  recruiting  station  at 
New  York,  and  ordered  to  duty  on  the  frontier.  En- 
closing the  letter  to  the  Commander-in-chief  for  his 
approval,  he  summoned  all  his  fortitude  to  wait  with 
patience  an  answer  to  his  application.  In  a  few  days  it 
came.  How  eagerly  he  broke  the  seals  !  His  eye  glanced 


94  BERNARD     LILB. 

over  it,  an  icy  coldness  shook  his  hand,  and  the  paper  fell 
to  the  floor.  His  request  was  granted,  but  his  look  was 
that  of  a  condemned  criminal,  rather  than  of  the  successful 
applicant.  Such  is  human  nature.  Yesterday  he  would 
have  given  his  little  all  to  be  assured  of  the  contents  of  that 
paper.  To-day  he  read  it  as  a  sentence  of  banishment  from 
the  only  light  that  beamed  on  earth  for  him.  A  banish- 
ment easy  in  contemplation,  dreadful  in  reality.  Every 
nerve  was  rigid,  and  the  blood  stood  stagnant  in  his  veins. 
Thought  only  lived.  That  dreary  pause  revealed  a  life  of 
crushed  and  broken  hopes — of  blasted  joy  and  gnawing 
agony  Oh !  why  should  one  so  young,  so  noble,  be  so 
sternly  tried  ?  Was  it  that  ages  ago,  before  earth's  atoms 
were  collected  from  chaos,  the  doom  of  everything  that 
moves,  and  has  its  being  here,  was  written  on  a  changeless 
tablet,  and  hung  around  the  Eternal  Throne  ?  or  was  it 
that  fire  and  torture  were  needed  to  melt  away  the  dross 
fsom  the  gold  of  mortality,  and  fit  it  for  the  hands  of  a 
Workman  whose  ends  we  know  not — whose  justice  we  dare 
not  question  ?  Not  here,  amid  the  shadows  of  this  lower 
orb,  may  the  answer  be  read.  The  messenger  of  an  unseen 
Power  walks  among  us  in  darkness,  striking  down  whom 
he  listeth.  We  know  not  whence  the  blow  cometh  nor 
wherefore,  and  never  can  know  until  that  great  day  when 
all  that  is  dark  shall  be  made  bright,  and  all  that  is  mys- 
terious shall  be  revealed. 

Other  thoughts  than  those  of  an  overshadowed  existence 
found  a  place  in  the  mind  of  Wilson.  Dim  and  afar  off  a 
solitary  light  rose  on  his  vision.  Through  the  mists  of  the 
present  it  beckoned  him  on  over  a  rough  and  stony  path- 
way to  the  splendid  fane  it  lighted.  No  sweet  flowers 
reared  their  stems  of  beauty  around  its  base.  No  offering 
from  the  hand  of  friendship  filled  the  air  with  incense.  No 
home  endearments  knelt  and  worshiped  there.  Pity  turned 


BERNARD     LILE.  95 

from  its  scorching  blaze,  and  Mercy  stilled  the  notes  whose' 
power  to  charm  was  gone.     Bat  neither  the  toilsome  road 
nor  the  cheerless  end  could  banish  the  fascination  of  that 
Altar  8  flame.     In  every  age,  man  has  owned  its  influence 
every  age,  the  high  and  the  happy  have  sacrificed  con- 
ntment  and  peace  for  its  sake.     Then  why  should  the 
wretched  hesitate  f     Surely  they  are   Ambition's   fittest 
votaries.   To  them  it  curtains  the  past,  and  gilds  the  future 
It  beamed  upon  the  young  officer  like  the  first  star  that 
kindled  its  rays  over  Paradise,  and  he  welcomed  its  coming 
the   persian  welcomes  the  advent  of  his  fiery  god 
bowed  head   was  raised  from  the  hand  on  which 
t leaned.     With  firm  and  erect  carriage  he  passed  from 
the  barrack  r         to  the  gtreet      Hig  ^^  ^  P 

and  hoary  :  and  he  went  forth  to  battle  with  the  world 
*  all  the  life  and  energy  of  youth,  added  to  the  cooler 

judgment  and  unbending  purposes  of  maturer  years 

That  day  he  addressed  a  note  to  Monsieur  Evadne 
advising  him  that  he  was  about  to  leave  New  York  for 
the  head-quarters  of  his  regiment  in  the  West^requesting 
him  to  inform  Mrs.  Lile,  and  excusing  himself  for  not 
calling  in  person,  upon  the  plea  of  necessary  preparations 
for  his  hasty  departure.  If  he  expected  an  answer,  none 
came.  It  was  long  afterwards,  when  stretched  upon  a  bed 

o  which  wounds  and  fever  had  confined  him,  among  the 
everglades  of  Florida,  that  he  heard  once  more  from  his 
strange  benefactor  and  his  beautiful  spouse 


96  BERNARD     LILE. 


CHAPTER    VII. 

And  tall  and  strong  and  swift  of  foot  were  they, 
Beyond  the  dwarfing  city's  pale  abortions, 
Because  their  thoughts  had  never  been  the  prey 
Of  care  or  gain,  the  green  woods  were  their  portions ; 
No  sinking  spirits  told  them  they  grow  gray ; 
No  fashion  made  them  apes  of  her  distortions ; 
Simple  they  were,  not  savage ;  and  their  rifles, 
Though  very  true,  were  not  yet  used  for  trifles." 

WE  must  again  tax  the  reader  to  journey  from  t!he  city 
to  the  wilderness.  Our  history  lies  mainly  with  that  mys- 
terious man  whose  destiny  seemed  akin  to  that  of  the  fated 
Jew  who  struck  thi  Saviour  on  his  way  to  the  cross,  and 
heard  the  awful  doom  thundered  in  his  ear,  "tarry  thou  till 
I  come."  Centuries  have  rolled  away  since  those  words  of 
fearful  import  echoed  upon  Calvary.  The  mighty  empire, 
which,  stretching  out  its  arms  from  the  shores  of  the  Medi- 
terranean, grasped  a  world  in  its  vast  embrace,  is  numbered 
among  the  things  that  have  been.  The  four  arches  of  the 
Forum  have  crumbled  away,  and  the  traveler  searches  in 
vain  for  the  spot,  where  the  goddess  of  eloquence,  bestowed 
upon  the  young  Cicero  the  baptism  of  eternal  fame.  The 
lightning  of  heaven  has  descended  upon  the  Pantheon,  and 
its  scathed  and  blackened  walls  have  been  succeeded  by  a 
Christian  church.  The  sun -beam  no  longer  gilds  the 
Augustan  halls,  and  the  outlawed  bandit  lurks  amid  the 
gray  ruins  from  whence  issued  the  mandates  that  swept 
over  earth,  and  found  none  bold  enough  to  disregard  them. 
Arches,  vaults,  temples,  and  porticoes — the  long  colonnade, 
and  the  splendid  mausoleum — are  no  more.  The  grove, 
where  fauns  and  satyrs  danced  to  the  lyre  of  Ovid,  is  a 


BERNARD     LILB.  97 

t 

dreary  waste,  where  death  is  for  ever  riding  on  the  malaria 
that  rises  from  the  steaming  plain.  The  forest  of  Hymet- 
tns,  where  Virgil  gathered  the  honey  that  filled  his  verse, 
has  disappeared,  and  the  sweet  thyme  and  the  odorous 
wild-flower  sickened  and  died  when  the  shadow  of  the 
green  leaves  passed  away.  New  thrones  have  risen — new 
empires  ceased  to  be.  But  the  wretch  whose  tongue  reviled, 
and  whose  hand  smote  a  crucified  Redeemer,  lives  on.  Still 
wherever  he  wanders,  travels  with  him  the  curse,  "  tarry 
thou  till  I  come."  One  by  one  his  kindred  and  his  tribe 
laid  down  in  everlasting  sleep.  One  by  one  he  followed 
them  to  their  final  resting-place,  and  the  fierce  agony  of 
the  damned,  gnawed  his  heart-strings,  as  the  hollow  sound 
made  by  the  falling  earth  on  the  coffin-lid,  shaped  itself 
into  words,  and  murmured,  "tarry  thou  till  I  come." 
Winter  came  and  went,  but  brought  no  whiteness  to  his 
raven  lock|.  The  hoariness  was  all  within.  Years  flew 
by.  The  Roman  eagles  had  winged  their  flight  from 
Palestine,  and  the  silver  stars  of  the  crescent  glittered 
through  the  land  of  Judea  ;  but  no  change  had  come  for 
him.  Beneath  the  banner  of  Lusignan,  he  stormed  the 
infidel  fortress  of  Caesarea ;  a  huge  stone  toppled  from  the 
shaken  wall,  and  crushed  him  beneath  its  weight.  The 
senses  fled,  but  on  the  very  verge  of  eternity  the  spirit  stayed 
its  flight.  Strong  hands  rolled  the  granite  mass  from  the 
mangled  form  ;  the  bleeding  body  was  stretched  upon  a 
litter  of  lances,  and  from  the  hollow  tread  of  the  soldiers, 
who  bore  him  to  the  leech's  care  came  up  the  words,  "  tarry 
thou  till  I  come."  He  sought  another  land,  and  entered 
a  great  city,  where  the  plague  had  made  its  loathsome 
home.  He  sat  down  by  the  side  of  the  stricken  victims, 
and  held  their  infected  hands  within  his  own.  He  rested 
upon  the  same  couch  with  the  putrid  corpse,  and  lifted  the 
dead  bodies  with  his  naked  arms,  into  the  burial  cart  ;  but 

9 


98  BERNARD     LILE. 

the  pestilence  scathed  him  not,  and  the  groaning  wheels, 
as  they  rolled  away,  screeched — " tarry  thou  till  I  come." 
Again,  he  stood  upon  a  beetling  crag,  and  looked  down 
upon  the  foaming  surf  that  roared  around  its  base.  With 
a  wild  laugh  he  leaped  from  the  dizzy  height  into  the  dark 
gulf  below.  The  waters  closed  around  him,  but  the  next 
surge  threw  him,  stunned  and  bleeding  on  the  shore,  and 
the  winds  that  swept  over  the  sea,  howled  louder  as  they 
passed,  "  tarry  thou  till  I  come. "  And  so,  from  age  to 
age,  and  zone  to  zone,  he  has  wandered  on ;  denied  the 
last  refuge  of  mortality,  yet  suffering  all  mortality  can 
endure.  Like  him  had  Bernard  Lile  been  a  wanderer. 
Like  him  had  he  grown  familiar  with  .agony,  but,  unlike 
the  Jew,  the  dark  night  around  him  might  have  a  morning. 
From  his  own  haughty  and  imperious  heart  was  distilled 
the  venom  that  had  made  his  life  a  thing  of  gloom  and 
terror.  Let  that  heart  be  touched  and  softened  by  repent- 
ance ;  let  it  bow  in  humility  at  the  footstool  of  a  power 
no  mortal  may  resist,  and  the  star  which  rose  in  beauty 
over  Bethlehem,  will  give  peace  and  brightness  to  the 
shadow  and  the  night.  Already  there  were  indications  of 
a  change.  It  might  take  years  to  effect  it — it  might  never 
come  ;  but  there  is  always  hope  when  the  struggle  between 
good  and  evil  has  once  commenced.  Even  as  he  stood 
near  the  dead  bodies  of  the  baffled  assassins,  in  the  forest 
of  Arkansas,  thoughts  crowded  upon  him  that  brought 
forth  fruits  at  another  day,  and  as  he  turned  to  follow  the 
footsteps  of  his  guide,  through  the  thick  cane-brake  before 
them,  the  stern  lines  of  his  compressed  lips  had  almost 
relaxed  into  softness. 

Rapidly  through  the  forest,  and  over  the  wide  prairie, 
they  pressed  on  their  lonely  journey.  From  the  women 
and  the  children  in  the  few  scattered  houses  on  the  route, 
they  learned  that  there  was  a  gathering  of  the  hardy 


BERNAEDLILE.  99 

pioneers  on  the  frontier — that  Burleson,  Rusk,  Fannin, 
Milam,  and  many  others,  were  in  the  field.  Blood  had 
been  shed,  and  more  was  soon  to  flow.  When  they  ap- 
proached nearer  to  San  Antonio,  they  learned  that  the 
town  and  fortress  were  garrisoned  by  about  fifteen  hun- 
dred Mexicans,  under  the  command  of  General  Cos.  The 
next  day  they  entered  the  camp  of  General  Burleson,  and 
found  his  forces  to  consist  of  six  or  seven  hundred  men, 
tolerably  well  armed  with  rifles  and  knives,  but  very  poorly 
provided  with  artillery.  The  new  comers  were  gladly  wel- 
comed. Lile  walked  through  the  encampment ;  marking 
with  a  soldier's  eye  all  he  saw,  and  calculating  all  they 
could  accomplish.  Undisciplined  they  certainly  were  ;  but 
there  was  in  each  bosom  an  abiding  conviction  of  the  jus- 
tice of  their  cause,  an  indifference  to  life,  if  unaccompanied 
with  liberty,  and  a  self-confidence  nothing  but  an  infancy 
rocked  amid  dangers  can  give,  and  nothing  but  death  can 
take  away.  In  that  army  there  was  no  brawling,  no  gam- 
bling, no  drunkenness.  The  first  settlers  of  Texas  were 
earnest  and  sober  men.  Their  lonely  lives  had  imparted 
a  deep  seriousness  of  character  to  the  most  thoughtless 
among  them.  They  did  not  plunge  into  revolution.  They 
walked  into  it,  with  their  eyes  open;  knowing  the  odds 
against  them,  .and  scorning  it,  when  Freedom  gave  the 
word.  For  such  men  fetters  are  never  forged. 

On  the  fifth  of  December,  a  tall,  gray-haired  man,  whose 
firm  tread  and  swelling  muscles  told  that  time  had  stolen 
away  none  of  his  strength,  stepped  from  the  ranks,  and 
held  brief  conference  with  the  general  Then  turning  to 
where  the  citizen  soldiery  were  drawn  up  in  rude  imitation 
of  regular  order,  his  voice  swelled  bold  and  high  as  he 
exclaimed,  "Who  will  join  Old  Ben  Milam  in  storming 
the  Alamo  ?"  There  was  no  preface ;  no  stirring  appeal 
to  their  patriotism;  no  glowing  pictures  of  glory  to  be 


100  BERNARD     LILE. 

won  in  the  perilous  undertaking ;  but  the  simple  question, 
repeated  in  a  voice  clearer  and  louder  than  the  trumpet's 
call,  "Who  will  join  Old  Ben  Milam  in  storming  the 
Alamo  ?"  Storm  the  Alamo !  Storm  a  stone  fortress  brist- 
ling with  cannon,  and  defended  by  fifteen  hundred  regular 
troops !  Storm  it,  and  with  what  ?  With  undisciplined 
militia,  armed  only  with  rifles  and  hatchets !  Aye !  it  is 
even  with  such  tools  that  iron  man  expects  to  pick  his  way 
through  the  granite  walls  of  the  enemy's  stronghold.  The 
question  was  so  sudden — the  men  so  unprepared  for  such 
a  desperate  proposition,  that  for  a  brief  space  no  voice  was 
raised  in  reply. 

"  If,  sir,"  said  Bernard  Lile,  stepping  deliberately  to  the 
side  of  the  veteran  Texan,  "  you  will  accept  a  stranger's  aid, 
there  is  one  rifle  at  your  service." 

"You  might  have  said  two,  captain,"  added  Simpson; 
"for  I  wouldn't  miss  that  sight  for  the  best  plantation  on 
the  Mississippi." 

Three  hundred  more  rushed  to  the  side  of  Milam. 
Three  hundred  such  as  roused  Ferguson  from  his  eyrie  on 
King's  Mountain,  and  struck  the  death-blow  to  British 
dominion  in  America.  They  paused  not  to  ask  what 
means  they  possessed  to  accomplish  the  daring  deed. 
One  man  had  been  found  bold  enough  to  propose  it,  and 
around  that  man  rallied  three  hundred  "  children  of  the 
the  chase,"  whose  nerves  of  twisted  steel  had  never  been 
shaken  by  disease  or  debauchery,  and  in  whose  vocabulary 
the  word  fear  had  never  been  written  With  them  to 
resolve,  was  to  act  ;^and  in  two  hours  from  the  time  that 
old  man's  voice  rang  along  the  lines,  they  were  on  the 
march  for  the  fortress  that  a  few  weeks  later  became 
immortal.  Formed  in  two  divisions,  the  first  under  Milam 
himself,  the  second  under  Col.  Johnson,  they  entered  the 
suburbs  of  San  Antonio.  A  sharp  fire  of  grape  and 


BERNARD     LILE.  101 

musketry  was  opened  upon  them  from  the  town.  The 
heavy  roll  of  a  twenty-four  pounder  from  the  fortress  suc- 
ceeded. The  iron  globe  hurtled,  with  savage  ferocity, 
through  the  street.  Another  and  another  followed,  until 
the  house  of  Antonio  de  la  Garza,  in  which  the  division 
under  Milam  had  taken  shelter,  was  riddled  with  cannon- 
balls.  Unaccustomed  to  regular  warfare — without  scien- 
tific knowledge,  or  the  instruments  necessary  to  render  it 
effective,  the  cause  of  the  republicans  looked  desperate 
indeed.  In  this  extremity,  the  miltary  experience  of  Lile 
enabled  him  to  render  inestimable  service.  Seizing  a  crow- 
bar, he  set  the  example  of  opening  a  passage  from  one 
house,  through  the  partition  walls,  to  another. 

"Remember  that  trick,  boys,"  shouted  Milam,  as  he 
leaped  through  the  opening ;  "  it  may  help  us  at  a  pinch 
another  day. "  / 

From  house  to  house  the  daring  pioneers  burrowed  their 
way.  Once  within  rifle  range,  a  close  and  deadly  fire  was 
opened  upon  the  enemy's  artillery.  The  Mexican  gun- 
ners disappeared  as  rapidly  as  a  swarm  of  insects  is  swept 
away  by  the  wing  of  the  tempest ;  and  when  the  night 
closed  in,  every  piece,  within  range  of  the  Texan  shot,  was 
abandoned.  Under  cover  of  the  darkness,  the  assailants 
employed  themselves  in  strengthening  the  position  they 
had  gained.  At  day-light,  they  discovered  that  the  Mexi- 
cans had  occupied  the  house-tops  in  their  front?  Through- 
out the  day  the  fire  was  kept  up  on  both  sides  with  little 
apparent  advantage.  As  the  shades  of  evening  began  to 
fall,  Milam  grew  restless  and  impatient. 

"This  will  never  do,"  he  said;  "our  powder  will  give 
out.  We  must  make  a  rush. " 

"I  think  you  can  do  better,  Colonel,"  suggested  Lile. 
"  Yonder  house  to  the  right  commands  the  enemy's  posi» 
tioii.  If  that  is  taken  he  must  give  way. " 

9* 


102  BERNARD     LILE. 

"By  heavens!  you  are  right,"  answered  the  old  man, 
with  flashing  eyes.  "  Will  you  lead  a  detachment  across 
that  street  ?  It  takes  a  bold  man  to  do  it ;  for  the  bullets 
are  flying  as  thick  as  musquitoes  on  the  Brazos." 

"  No,  Colonel.  I  came  here  to  follow,  not  to  lead  ;  but 
if  you  will  send  an  officer  and  five  or  six  men  to  occupy  it, 
I  and  my  friend  Simpson,  will  engage  to  make  a  way  into 
that  house,  in  five  minutes,  if  the  bullets  were  twice  as  thick 
as  they  are." 

"Quick,  then.  Here's  McDonald,  who  never  feared  the 
devil  himself,  shall  support  you. " 

With  a  rifle  in  one  hand,  a  crow-bar  in  the  other,  Lile 
and  Simpson  leaped  from  the  window  into  the  street,  They 
reached  the  opposite  side,  and  the  crow-bars,  impelled  by 
arms  that  gave  them  the  force  of  a  battering-ram,  had 
shaken  the  solid  door  from  its  hinges,  before  the  Mexicans 
seemed  to  be  aware  of  their  object.  A  shower  of  bullets 
began  to  patter  around  them.  It  was  too  late.  The  door 
fell,  and  the  two  friends  leaped  within  the  cover  of  the 
building,  just  as  McDonald  and  his  men  descended  to  the 
street  on  the  opposite  side.  A  harder  task  was  before  the 
lieutenant.  The  first  surprise  of  the  Mexicans  was  over, 
and  a  hundred  muskets  were  levelled  at  his  little  band. 
Two  fell  to  rise  no  more,  and  two  others  were  badly  hurt. 
Without  further  loss,  he  gained  the  house,  and  the  enemy 
lost  no  time  in  falling  back  to  a  new  position.  The  night 
of  the  6th  was  employed  by  the  enemy  in  opening  a  trench 
on  the  Alamo  side  of  the  river,  and  strengthening  a  battery 
on  a  cross  street.  At  daylight  on  the  1th,  a  continued 
roll  of  musketry  from  the  trench,  and  the  sullen  boom  of 
the  guns  of  the  battery,  told  that  the  work  of  death  had 
re-commenced.  A  thick  smoke  settled  over  the  Mexican 
lines,  and  sheltered  the  artillerists  from  the  unerring  rifles 
of  the  Texans.  Incessant  flashes  of  lurid  light  chequered 


BERNARD     LILE.  103 

the  gloomy  curtain,  and  the  dense  vapor  rose  and  fell  as 
the  round  shot  tore  through  it,  with  a  fierce,  hissing  sound, 
on  their  dreadful  errand.  For  the  first  time  the  hardy 
yeomen  felt  the  unequal  nature  of  the  contest  they  had  so 
gallantly  provoked.  For  the  first  time  they  began  to  ex- 
perience that  uneasy  feeling  which  is  so  apt  to  afflict  young 
soldiers  who  are  compelled  to  sustain  a  galling  fire  without 
the  chance  of  returning  it  effectually. 

Milam  saw  the  unwonted  depression  spread  among  his 
men,  and  all  the  lion  of  his  nature  was  roused.  "  Stand  to 
it,  boys,"  he  shouted.  "Remember  Zacatecas.  Learn 
from  her  that  unless  you  gorge  the  tyrant  with  his  own 
blood,  he  will  soon  be  lapping  that  of  your  wives  and 
children.  Keep  behind  your  sand  bags,  and  let  him  waste 
his  powder  upon  them.  We'll  get  to  closer  quarters  when 
the  sun  goes  down." 

The  gallant  bearing  of  their  commander  dispelled  the 
momentary  panic  of  the  troops,  and  a  loud  shout  answered 
his  cheering  words  Satisfied  with  this  encouraging  de- 
monstration, Milam  turned  towards  the  quarter  occupied  by 
the  division  under  Col.  Johnson.  He  gained  the  middle 
of  the  street — there  was  a  quick  roll  of  musketry — the  old 
man  stopped — reeled — fell,  and  his  gray  hairs,  clotted  with 
blood  and  dirt,  were  strewed  upon  the  ground.  Instantly 
a  tall  form  was  at  his  side.  With  a  giant's  strength,  he 
lifted  the  dying  martyr  in  his  arms,  and  bore  him  back 
among  his  men. 

"  This  is  a  dark  day  for  Texas,"  said  Bernard  Lile,  com- 
posing the  manly  limbs  of  the  hero  as  he  spoke.  "  We 
may  take  yonder  fortress,  and  we  will,  for  the  earth  that 
has  drank  the  blood  of  Milam  can  never  bear  a  foreign 
yoke ;  but  a  hundred  fortresses  would  be  insufficient  to 
pay  his  country  for  the  life  that  has  fled." 

So  died  the  first'  great  martyr  to  the  cause  of  Texan  in- 


104  BERNARD     LILE. 

dependence.  His  death-couch  was  the  unpaved  floor  of  a 
Spanish  hovel — his  winding-sheet  a  soldier's  blanket.  But 
the  cloth  of  scarlet  and  gold  which  covered  Coeur-de-Lion 
on  his  kingly  bier,  hid  no  bolder  heart ;  and  the  steel-clad 
nobles,  who  gathered  around  the  dead  sovereign,  shook 
with  no  sincerer  grief,  than  the  rude  forest  children  who 
bent  above  the  lifeless  form  of  the  Republican  Leader. 
There  was  no  outward  burst  of  grief — no  maddening  calls 
for  vengeance  on  the  foe.  The  fire  of  rage  died  out  in  the 
presence  of  a  deeper  and  a  deadlier  passion.  The  light 
that  gleamed  from  every  eye  was  the  cold,  concentrated, 
merciless  glare  of  the  tigress,  when  the  hunter's  shot  has 
drawn  the  life-blood  of  her  cub.  A  hasty  consultation  was 
held,  and  Col.  Johnson  selected  to  take  the  place  of  their 
lamented  commander.  At  ten  o'clock  that  night,  in  the 
midst  of  a  cold,  drenching  rain,  they  stormed  the  house  of 
Antonio  Navarro.  Next  morning  the  Zambrano  Row  was 
taken :  the  enemy  being  driven  with  murderous  fury  from 
every  room.  The  priest's  house  now  fell,  and  the  Mexicans 
were  completely  shut  up  in  the  Alamo.  To  a  soldier  like 
Lile,  it  seemed  that  the  most  serious  work  of  the  colonists 
was  now  only  about  to  begin.  They  had  nothing  with 
which  to  batter  down  the  walls.  There  was  nothing  with 
which  to  cover  their  nearer  approach.  To  scale  them 
looked  like  madness,  and  yet  to  scale  them  was  the  fixed 
determination  of  every  officer  and  every  man  in  that  daunt- 
less band.  ,. 

"We  have  hunted  the  wild  beast  to  his  den,"  said  Lile 
to  a  rugged  forester  by  his  side  ;  "  but  I  do  not  see  how 
we  are  to  get  him  out." 

•  "By  God,"  replied  the  man,  "if  I  hadn't  seen  you  do 
things  Gen.  Jackson  would  study  about  before  trying,  I'd 
half  suspect  you  of  being  a  little  cowardly." 

"  You  are  welcome  to  suspect  what  you  please,  if  you 


BERNARD     LILE.  105 

will  only  get  over  those  walls  as  quick  as  I  do.     Still,  I 
cannot  see  how  it  is  to  be  done." 

"  Eat  them  down  with  our  teeth,  if  there's  no  other  way. 
Old  Ben  Milam  will  never  rest  in  his  grave  until  we  do  it." 

"  Well,  I  do  not  intend  to  eat  any  of  those  stones,  but  I 
intend  to  be  the  first  on  top  of  them,  and  my  hand  shall  be 
the  first  to  quell  a  foe  beyond  them.  Will  you  mount  with 
me?" 

"  I'll  try ;  but  to  tell  the  truth  and  shame  the  devil,  I 
don't  believe  I'm  able  to  keep  up  with  you." 

He  had  hardly  ceased  speaking  before  a  white  flag  was 
seen  to  emerge  from  the  fortress. 

"  There,"  said  Lile,  pointing  it  out  to  his  companion, 
"our  bargain  is  spoiled.  They  are  about  to  capitulate." 

"Yes,"  was  the  bitter  response,  "  the  white-livered  dogs 
have  knocked  under,  and  Milam's  blood  is  not  half  re- 
venged. Never  mind — another  day  they  shall  pay  for  it." 

True  enough,  the  bearer  of  that  flag,  was  the  bearer  of  a 
proposition  to  surrender.  General  Martin  Perfecto  de 
Cos,  with  an  army  of  fifteen  hundred  regulars,  protected 
by  a  strong  town  and  a  still  stronger  fortress,  surrendered 
to  three  hundred  militia,  and  was  himself  the  messenger  of 
his  own  disgrace  to  his  master.  History  records  no  more 
daring  achievement,  and  contains  but  one  more  glorious 
chapter. 

The  volunteers,  who  had  stormed  the  town  and  fortress 
of  San  Antonio  de  Bexar,  dispersed,  and  returned  to  their 
several  homes,  leaving  about  a  hundred  men  under  com- 
mand of  Col.  Travis,  to  keep  possession  of  the  post  they 
had  so  gallantly  won.  Simpson,  who  had  been  badly 
wounded  in  the  assault,  was  removed  by  Lile  to  Carlos's 
Kanchb  on  the  river  below. 

Our  story  still  lingers  around  the  spot  so  memorable  in 
the  annals  of  Texas.  Early  in  February,  courier  after 


106  BERNARD     LILE. 

courier  came  in  from  beyond  San  Antonio,  with  the  start- 
ling intelligence  that  Santa  Anna  had  collected  a  great 
army,  and  was  marching  in  person  toward  the  revolted 
province. 

"  Bloody  with,  spurring,  fiery  red  with  speed," 

these  couriers  rushed  from  post  to  post,  to  spread  the  news 
of  the  coming  danger.  The  dictator  proclaimed  in  advance 
his  intention  not  to  subjugate,  but  to  destroy.  From  the 
Rio  Grande  to  the  Sabine,  it  was  known  to  be  his  fixed 
resolve  to  spare  neither  age  nor  sex — to  leave,  in  his  own 
phraseology,  "  nothing  of  Texas  but  the  recollection  that 
it  had  been."  Unawed  by  numbers — unappalled  by  the 
threatened  doom,  the  citizen  soldiers  prepared  to  breast 
the  advancing  tide.  It  was  well  understood  that  the  first 
fury  of  the  tempest  must  burst  upon  the  Alamo,  and,  as  the 
little  band  under  Travis  were  wholly  inadequate  to  its 
defence,  he  was  again  and  again  urged  to  blow  up  the 
walls  and  retreat. 

"Never !"  replied  the  dauntless  patriot.  "When  these 
walls  are  blown  down,  it  shall  be  by  Mexican  cannon,  not 
by  American  powder." 

Again  he  was  told  that  his  force  was  insufficient  to  man 
the  walls  ;  that  he  must  be  cut  off,  and  every  man  would  be 
sacrificed. 

"  I  know  it,"  was  the  stern  reply,  "  but  I  want  to  teach 
these  barbarians  what  Americans  can  do.  I  know  that 
we  shall  be  sacrificed,  but  the  victory  will  cost  the  enemy 
dear,  and  in  the  end  be  worse  for  him  than  a  defeat. " 

On  the  21st  of  February,  the  advanced  division  of  the 
army  of  Santa  Anna,  under  Ramirez  Sezma,  sat  down 
before  the  devoted  citadel.  A  flag  was  sent  in,  with  a 
summons  to  surrender  at  discretion. 

"Go  back  and  tell  your  chief,"  answered  the  heroic 


BERNARD     LILE.  107 

Travis,  "  that  I  have  lived  with  unshackled  limbs,  and  by 
the  blessing  of  God,  intend  to  die  so." 

Slowly  from  the  church  of  Bexar  now  rose  a  blod-red 
flag.  Upon  its  crimson  folds  no  motto  was  written — no 
device  appeared.  Above  the  temple  of  the  living  God — 
in  mockery  of  the  Redeemer's  precepts,  there  it  waved,  a 
dark  and  awful  red. 

"  See,"  said  Crocket,  as  the  merciless  signal  caught  the 
breeze,  "  they  give  us  fair  warning  to  expect  no  quarter. " 
"  They  had  better  wait  till  we  ask  it,"  answered  Bowie, 
a  stern  smile  spreading  around  his  thin  lips,  and  giving  to 
his  countenance  that  peculiar  expression  of  deadly  deter- 
mination, before  which,  it  is  said,  the  boldest  on  the  fron- 
tiers had  quailed. 

"  You  are  wrong,  Bowie,"  said  Travis,  bitterly,  "  for  in 
that  case  they  never  would  have  had  an  opportunity  of 
displaying  this  amiable  trait  of  the  Mexican  character. 
But  come  away  from  the  walls.  Round  shot  and  shell  are 
not  the  most  agreeable  aquaintances  in  the  world,  and  in 
five  minutes  more  a  swarm  of  them  will  be  traveling  in 
this  direction." 

The  commander  of  the  Almo  was  mistaken.  The  Mexi- 
can general  was  in  no  hurry.  Slowly  and  deliberately  he 
drew  his  lines,  and  erected  his  batteries.  About  three  o'clock 
on  the  morning  of  the  23d,  a  rocket  ascended  from  the 
head-quarters  of  the  Mexicans  :  rising  high  into  the  air,  it 
turned  slowly  and  gracefully  at  the  culminating  point — 
the  dry  powder  ignited,  brilliant  sparks  for  a  moment  illu- 
minated the  heavens,  and  all  again  was  black.  A  half 
hour  later,  another  fiery  messenger  went  up  towards  the 
stars.  Simultaneously,  the  roar  of  five  different  batteries 
shook  the  solid  earth.  Darkly,  as  the  pestilence  walks,  the 
round  shot  hurtled  on  its  way ;  with  an  angry  kiss,  the  heavy 
shell  sped  towards  its  mark,  leaving  a  trail  of  light  behind 


108  B  E  E  N  A  B  D     L  I  L  E . 

But  shot  and  shell  had  a  common  destination.  For  twenty- 
four  hours,  without  ceasing,  that  blasting  hail  beat  upon 
the  doomed  garrison.  For  twenty-four  hours  they  bore 
up  under  the  ceaseless  storm  of  infernal  missiles.  Not  an 
eye  winked — not  a  cheek  blanched.  Calmly,  fearlessly 
they  waited  for  the  nearer  struggle.  At  length  it  came. 
A  dark  column,  with  the  regiment  of  Tampico  at  its  head, 
moved  in  double  quick  time  to  the  assault.  The  fierce 
cannonade  had  ceased,  and  nothing  but  the  tramp  of 
marching  men  disturbed  the  silence  of  the  early  morning. 
Still  as  the  copper  snake  in  its  coil,  lay  Travis  and  his 
men.  Nearer  and  nearer  came  the  tread  of  the  stormers. 
At  once  a  dozen  fire-balls  were  ignited  and  hurled  from  the 
ramparts.  The  dark  space  over  which  the  Mexicans  were 
marching,  was  lighted  up  as  if  by  magic.  Even  the  but- 
tons on  the  uniforms  of  the  foe  were  distinctly  visible. 
"  Now  let  them  have  it  1"  shouted  Travis,  and  a  sheet  of 
flame  ran  along  the  walls.  Curses,  dying  groans,  and  the 
confused  noise  of  armed  men  jostling  against  each  other, 
proclaimed  the  fatal  accuracy  of  the  riflemen.  Another 
volley  succeeded,  and  the  famed  regiment,  baptised  "in- 
vincible" by  Santa  Anna,  broke  and  fled  in  wild  terror  to 
the  encampment,  all  that  day,  with  a  red  spot  upon  his 
cheek,  Sezma  moved  among  his  men.  Threats  of  punish- 
ment were  freely  mingled  with  promises'  of  reward.  Their 
pride,  their  patriotism  was  appealed  to.  They  were 
reminded  of  their  former  achievements,  and  stung  by 
comments  on  the  infamy  of  being  baffled  by  a  handful  of 
raw  militia.  The  next  morning,  two  columns  moved  to 
the  assault.  One  from  Bexar,  west,  and  the  other  from 
Lavilleta,  south.  The  artillery  of  the  garrison,  under  the 
command  of  Major  Evans,  ploughed  bloody  furrows 
through  the  advancing  columns,  but  not  until  they  came 
within  rifle  range  did  they  falter.  Upon  that  compact 


BERNARD     LILE.  109 

mass  every  shot  from  the  garrison  told.  File  after  file 
went  down  in  quick  succession.  They  paused — huddled 
together  like  frightened  wild  fowl— a  shower  of  grape 
swept  through  them — a  volley  of  rifle  bullets  completed 
the  panic — with  a  yell  of  terror  they  threw  away  their 
muskets,  and  fled  behind  their  entrenchments. 

The  Mexican  general  had  suffered  too  grievously,  and 
his  men  were  too  much  disheartened  to  venture  upon  a 
third  attack.  Again  the  roar  of  artillery  swept  over  the 
Prairie,  and  frightened  the  wild  deer  to  more  distant  pas- 
tures. On  the  first  of  March,  thirty-two  men,  from  Gon- 
zales,  cut  their  way  through  the  enemy  and  joined  the 
garrison.  With  these  was  Bernard  Lile.  He  had  left  his 
wounded  friend  to  take  part  in  the  game  of  life  and  death 
so  boldy  played  by  Travis.  Never  has  the  pen  of  history 
been  called  upon  to  record  an  exploit  like  that  these  de- 
voted patriots  had  performed.  Thirty-rtwo  men  cutting 
their  way  through  an  army  of  four  thousand  1  Seeking 
no  reward — impelled  by  no  hope  of  safety — guided  and 
animated  by  no  feeling  but  patriotism,  and  asking  nothing 
but  the  privilege  to  die  side  by  side  with  their  countrymen. 
Desperate  men  have  often  been  known  to  resort  to  desperate 
expedients  for  the  preservation  of  life.  But  such  was  not 
the  motive  of  the  men  of  Gonzales.  Outside  the  enemies' 
lines  they  were  already  safe.  They  cut  their  way  in  to  die. 
It  was  the  martyrdom  of  liberty  they  sought ;  and  as  long 
as  the  silver  waters  of  the  San  Antonio  glide  towards  the 
sea,  they  will  have  a  voice  to  murmur  their  fame. 

On  the  3d  day  of  March,  Santa  Anna  himself,  with  strong 
reinforcements,  arrived  and  assumed  the  command.  A 
new  battery  of  heavier  metal  was  established,  and  lines  of 
cavalry,  to  prevent  the  possibility  of  escape,  were  drawn 
between  the  entrenched  camps  that  encircled  the  fort. 
Travis  saw  that  his  last  hour  was  rapidly  approaching. 

10 


110  BERNARD     LILE. 

Resolving  to  make  one  more  effort — not  for  life,  but  for 
Texas — he  called  his  men  together,  told  them  plainly  that 
in  two  days,  at  farthest,  unless  succor  arrived,  certain 
butchery  awaited  them,  and  asked  who  would  undertake  to 
bear  a  letter,  through  the  Mexicans,  to  the  President  of 
the  Texan  Convention.  The  men  listened  in  silence  and 
with  folded  arms.  Not  a  man  moved — not  a  voice  was 
raised  in  reply.  A  shade  gathered  on  the  manly  brow  of 
their  leader. 

"  What  I"  he  exclaimed,  "  have  I  no  one  here  bold 
enough  to  risk  his  life  singly  for  Texas  ?" 

David  Crocket  stepped  from  the  ranks;  his  buckskin 
hunting-shirt  was  stiffened  with  clay,  and  blackened  with 
powder-smoke,  but  his  fresh  and  ruddy  complexion  gave 
no  token  of  the  fatigue  he  had  undergone,  and  his  bearing 
was  as  calm  as  when  he  walked  down  the  aisle  of  the  repre- 
sentative Hall  at  Washington. 

"  You  see,  Colonel,"  he  began,  "  it's  not  because  any  of 
us  are  afeard  to  die,  but  because  none  of  us  wants  to  lose 
his  shUre  in  what  is  coming.  When  I  was  in  Congress,  I 
noticed  that  all  the  fellows  were  striving  for  glory ;  but 
talking  wasn't  one  of  my  gifts,  and  precious  little  glory  fell 
to  my  lot.  Now  here,  behind  these  rocks,  the  question  is 
put  in  a  shape  that  I  feel  able  to  take  a  hand.  I'm  arter 
glory,  Colonel,  mixed  up  with  a  sprinkle  of  Mexican  hide 
and  tallow.  I  reckon  these  boys  are  much  of  my  way  of 
thinking  ;  and  if  you  ain't  got  no  objection  we'll  just  stay 
where  we  are." 

Amidst  the  applauding  murmurs  which  followed  the  Old 
Hunter's  harangue,  Bernard  Lile  walked  to  the  side  of  the 
commanding  officer. 

"  I  am  comparatively  a  stranger,  Colonel,"  he  said,  "  and 
it  is  most  fit  the  lot  should  fall  on  me.  I  came  here  to 


BERNARD     LILE.  Ill 

serve  Texas,  and  it  matters  little  to  me  in  what  capacity 
the  service  is  rendered." 

"  Let  him  go,  Colonel,"  shouted  a  dozen  voices  at  once, 
"we  saw  him  when  he  lifted  old  Ben  Milam  from  the 
street,  and  if  mortal  man  can  get  through  yonder  lines,  he 
will  do  it." 

So  it  was  arranged  that  Bernard  Lile  should  that  night 
be  the  bearer  of  despatches  to  the  President  of  the  Con- 
vention, or  to  General  Houston,  (then  supposed  to  be  in 
Victoria,)  as  circumstances  might  determine. 

When  darkness  came,  Lile  was  ushered  from  the  gate  by 
Travis  himself.  "  God  bless  you  I"  said  the  hero,  grasping 
the  hand  of  his  messenger  for  the  last  time.  "  We  shall 
meet  no  more.  In  a  few  days,  I  and  the  brave  fellows 
with  me  will  be  food  for  -the  vultures.  You,  sir,  are  said  to 
have  a  heart  that  never  knew  fear,  and  an  arm  that  never 
met  its  equal.  Use  both  for  Texas,  if  you  would  have  the 
blessing  of  a  dying  man.  Say  to  our  friends  to  take  no 
thought  about  avenging  our  deaths.  We  will  avenge  our- 
selves. But  tell  them  to  learn  from  us  that  life  without 
liberty  is  worthless,  and  if  they  cease  to  struggle  while  one 
hostile  foot  is  left  upon  the  soil  of  Texas,  we  will  come 
back  to  curse  it.  Again,  good-bye.  In  another  world  we 
may  recall  the  memory  of  this  hour.  In  this  one  we  are 
parted  for  ever." 

Lile  returned  the  firm  pressure  of  his  hand.  He  spoke 
not  of  hope,  for  he  knew  that  none  existed.  He  offered 
no  encouragement,  for  he  felt  such  words  would  be  an 
insult  to  that  dauntless  chief.  But  as  he  turned  away,  he 
resolved  that  more  than  one  Mexican  ghost  should,  before 
the  morrow  came,  precede  the  gifted  and  self-sacrificing 
patriot  to  the  spirit  land. 

Knowing  little  of  those  with  whom  he  had  to  contend, 
and  believing  they  would  make  an  effort  to  escape  during 


112  BERNARD     LILE. 

the  night,  Santa  Anna  had  taken  the  extraordinary  pre- 
caution of  placing  three  lines  of  sentinels  between  his 
encampment  and  the  fort.  Approaching  the  first  of  these, 
Lile  put  in  practice  the  arts  he  had  learned  among  the 
Thugs  of  India.  Throwing  himself  upon  the  ground  he 
wound  along  with  the  noiseless  motion  of  the  serpent, 
towards  his  intended  victim.  Suddenly  he  stood  erect  by 
the  sentry's  side.  Grasping  the  astonished  soldier  by  the 
throat,  he  drove  a  long  knife  to  his  heart.  Without  relin- 
quishing the  hold  upon  his  neck,  he  let  him  sink  slowly 
to  the  earth,  to  prevent  the  clatter  of  his  arms  in  falling. 
A  gurgling  noise  escaped  from  the  windpipe  when  the 
pressure  was  removed ;  a  slight  shiver  shook  the  body,  but 
nothing  else  gave  warning  that  a  soul  had  fled.  At  the 
second  line,  and  again  at  the  third,  the  same  scene  was  re- 
enacted.  A  thousand  yards  south-east  from  the  Alamo, 
an  entrenched  camp  lay  directly  in  his  path.  Here  he 
anticipated  little  vigilance  would  be  exercised.  With  three 
lines  of  sentinels  between  them  and  the  fort,  and  strong 
cavalry  pickets  in  every  direction  outside,  it  was  to.  be 
expected  that  they  would  feel  tolerably  secure.  He  was 
not,  however,  a  man  to  omit  any  precaution  where  the  least 
uncertainty  existed.  Stealthily  he  crossed  the  ditch  and 
clambered  over  the  earthworks.  Profound  silence  reigned 
throughout  the  encampment.  Slowly  he  passed  through 
to  the  opposite  side,  assured  himself  that  there  was  nothing 
in  that  quarter  to  interfere  with  his  escape,  and  then  re- 
turned among  the  tents.  The  first  he  entered  he  judged 
from  its  position  to  be  that  of  a  captain  of  a  company.  A 
dark  lantern  was  dimly  burning  within.  The  solitary  occu- 
pant slept  soundly — from  that  sleep  he  never  awakened. 
With  the  blood  that  gushed  in  a  crimson  torrent  upon  the 
camp-bed,  Lile  traced  upon  the  canvas  wall :  "  Remember 
the  blood-red  flag  of  Bexar."  Softly  he  crept  to  another 


BERNARD     LILE.  113 

tent,  and  another,  and  wherever  he  went,  the  angel  of 
death  went  with  him.  By  accident  his  hand  touched  the 
foot  of  a  soldier  who  slept  less  soundly  than  his  comrades. 
Starting  up  he  grasped  the  intruder,  and  fiercely  demanded 
his  name.  Scarcely  a  second  elapsed  before  the  Mexican 
sank  with  a  dying  groan  across  the  mouth  of  the  tent; 
but  the  alarm  was  given — it  spread  from  tent  to  tent; 
lights  flashed  through  the  encampment;  and  the  "long 
roll "  sent  forth  its  startling  notes.  Swiftly  as  the  flight  of 
the  night-hawk,  Bernard  Lile  cleared  the  works  and  sped 
across  the  rolling  prairie.  The  din  of  the  camp  rose 
behind  him — squadrons  of  horse  were  galloping  around — 
the  sharp  challenge  of  the  pickets  were  heard  on  every 
side.  Without  winding  or  turning  he  ran  the  dangerous 
gauntlet,  and  was  soon  far  beyond  the  reach  of  pursuit. 

Through  the  4th  and  5th  of  March  a  heavy  bombard- 
ment was  kept  up  by  the  Mexicans.  At  day-break  on  the 
sixth  they  rushed  to  the  final  assault.  They  were  met  by 
a  shower  of  grape  and  bullets  too  thick  and  deadly  for  any 
Mexican  courage  to  stand, — they  broke  and  fled  in  wild  dis- 
array towards  the  town.  They  were  with  difficulty  halted 
and  reformed  by  their  officers.  Again  they  rushed  on ; 
this  time  bearing  the  blood-red  banner  in  their  midst. 

"  Mark  the  man  who  carries  that  flag,"  said  Travis  to 
the  powder-grimed  rifleman  by  his  side. 

The  sharp  crack  of  the  rifle  followed,  and  the  flag  went 
down.  Another  hand  raised  it  aloft,  another  rifle  shot 
succeeded,  and  again  it  fell.  It  was  caught  up  once  more ; 
once  more  the  report  of  the  rifle  was  heard,  and  the  bunt- 
ing fell  for  the  last  time.  There  was  no  hand  in  that  host 
bold  enough  to  raise  it  again. 

"Toting  that  bloody  rag  aint  so  funny  after  all,"  mut- 
tered the  grim  rifleman,  as  he  reloaded  his  piece. 

The  enemy  had  in  the  meantime  gained  the  wall  and 
10* 


114  BERNABD     LILE. 

planted  the  scaling-ladders  against  it.  Strong  hands  seized 
them,  and  hurled  ladders  and  mounting  Mexicans  to  the 
ground  together.  Rifle  and  pistol  shots  were  poured  upon 
the  confused  mass.  Again  the  stormers  scattered  and  fled 
over  the  plains.  Santa  Anna  himself  halted  the  fugitives. 
With  bitter  execrations  of  their  cowardice,  were  mingled 
the  most  tempting  promises  of  promotion  and  reward.  He 
reminded  them  that  the  little  garrison  must  be  worn  down 
by  ten  days'  incessant  fatigue  and  night  watching,  and 
spoke  of  the  deep  disgrace  of  being  baffled  by  an  enemy  so 
few  in  numbers — so  ill  prepared  for  prolonged  resistance. 
Strong  reinforcements  were  brought  up.  The  artillery 
played  incessantly  upon  the  fort  to  cover  their  approach. 
Thus  protected  and  supported,  they  were  driven  once  more 
to  the  assault.  The  rifles  of  the  garrison  made  wide  havoc 
in  the  advancing  ranks.  Ladders  were  thrown  down,  and 
stones  toppled  upon  the  struggling  crowd  below.  But  new 
foes  succeeded ;  they  swarmed  up  the  wall  and  mixed  with 
its  defenders.  Overborne  by  numbers —  with  no  chance  to 
reload — the  Americans  clubbed  their  gum%  and  fought  on 
until  the  last  man  expired.  None  asked  foi  quarter, 

"  But  each  struck  singly,  silently,  and  home, 
And  sank  outwearied  rather  than  o'ercome." 

Travis  remained  upon  the  wall  until  two  shots  passed 
through  his  body.  He  fell,  and  General  Mora  rushed  up 
to  dispatch  him.  The  dying  hero  raised  himself  upon  his 
elbow,  and  thrust  his  good  sword  through  the  heart  of  the 
Mexican.  They  were  found  side  by  side  in  death ;  the 
sword  of  Travis,  clenched  in  his  stiffened  hand,  and  still 
remaining  in  the  breast  of  Mora.  Around  David  Crocket 
there  was  a  horrid  wall  of  human  bodies.  His  death  was 
sudden  and  without  pain.  The  freshness  of  his  features 
was  unchanged,  and  a  strange  smile  rested  upon  his  rigid 


BEKNARD     LILE.  115 

lips.     Death  had  overtaken  him  before  it  faded,  and  glued 
it  there  till  the  worm  came  to  eat  it  away. 

Such  was  the  dictator's  first  achievement  in  Texas. 
Fifteen  hundred  of  his  dead  and  wounded  soldiers  told  the 
fearful  story  of  "  what  Americans  can  do."  Over  that  spot, 
some  day,  a  monument  will  rise  to  meet  the  skies,  with  the 
proud  inscription,  "  Thermopylse  had  one  messenger  of 
defeat,  but  the  Alamo  had  none!" 


116  BERNARD     LILE. 

..,.-.. 


CHAPTER    VIII. 

"Yet  though  destruction  sweeps  these  lovely  plains 
Kiso,  fellow-men :  our  country  yet  remains. 
By  that  dread  name  we  wave  the  sword  on  high, 
And  swear  for  her  to  live — for  her  to  die." 

BERNARD  LILE  reached  the  Cibolo,  and  followed  that 
stream  to  its  junction  with  the  San  Antonio.  Here  he 
rested  until  the  daylight  would  enable  him  to  make  such 
observations  as  his  situation  demanded.  The  direct  route 
to  Victoria  would  leave  Goliad,  where  Fannin  was  stationed, 
considerably  to  the  right ;  but  that  involved  the  necessity 
of  crossing  the  open  prairie,  which  would,  without  doubt, 
be  continually  scoured  by  Mexican  horse.  At  another  time 
the  danger  from  this  quarter  would  have  had  little  influence 
on  his  course ;  but  he  knew  not  of  what  importance  the 
despatches  he  carried  might  be  to  the  Texan  commander, 
and  resolved  to  encounter  no  risk  in  their  delivery  that 
could  be  avoided.  When  morning  came,  he  soon  ascer- 
tained that  the  prairie  was  alive  with  light  troops,  and  no 
alternative  remained  for  him  but  to  make  for  Goliad,  keep- 
ing as  much  as  possible  within  the  protection  of  the  timber. 
The  toilsome  distance  was  accomplished  with  a  rapidity 
almost  miraculous.  Arrived  at  Goliad,  he  communicated 
to  Colonel  Fannin  all  he  had  seen  at  Bexar — the  inevitable 
fate  of  the  devoted  garrison,  and  the  probability  that  his 
own  post  would  be  the  next  point  of  attack.  That  gallant 
officer  engaged  to  send  Travis's  despatches  to  General 
Houston,  and  Bernard  Lile  determined  to  remain  at  Goliad, 
and  share  the  fate  of  Fannin  and  his  comrades".  This 
course  was  rendered  more  agreeable,  by  finding  Tom 


BERNARD     LILB.  117 

Simpson  in  the  camp,  completely  recovered  from  his  wound. 
The  force  under  Colonel  Fannin  was  composed  almost 
entirely  of  volunteers  from  the  States — men  who  had  left 
the  comforts  and  security  of  home,  to  do  battle  in  the  cause 
of  liberty — not  mere  adventurers,  who  had  no  ties  to  bind 
them  to  the  land  of  their  birth,  and  who  were  willing  to 
take  any  chance  of  bettering  their  desperate  fortunes — not 
paupers,  to  whom  the  camp  was  a  refuge  from  starvation — 
nor  hardened  miscreants,  to  whom  war  and  butchery  was  a 
delight — but  young  men,  for  the  most  part  educated  and 
refined,  who  left  peace,  security,  and  plenty,  for  peril,  pri- 
vation, and  death.  In  their  boyhood,  they  had  read  the 
story  of  the  revolution,  and  their  little  hearts  bounded  with 
indignant  anger  at  the  recital  of  the  wrongs  our  fathers 
had  suffered.  In  manhood  the  tale  was  borne  to  them, 
that,  in  a  neighboring  land,  their  kindred  and  friends  were 
threatened  with  chains  and  the  gibbet,  and  the  generous 
impulse  of  the  child  swelled  into  the  sterner  resolve  of  the 
man.  Urged  on  by  that  love  of  liberty  engendered  by 
American  principles,  they  grasped  their  rifles,  and  rushed 
to  take  part  in  the  struggle  begun  by  freedom  against  the 
myrmidons  of  despotism.  They  were  a  glorious  band : 
swayed  neither  by  the  lust  of  conquest  nor  of  spoil,  but 
frankly  periling  life  and  fortune  that  a  people  might  be 
redeemed, 

"  How  sweetly  on  the  ear  such  echoes  sound ! 
While  the  mere  victors  may  appal  or  stun 
The  servile  and  the  vain,  such  names  will  be 
A  watchword  till  the  future  shall  be  free." 

Marching  berefooted,  not  half  clothed,  and  often  not 
half  fed,  they  had  already  gone  through  an  amount  of  pri- 
vation and  fatigue  which  would  have  dispirited  a  veteran 
corps.  Yet  these  young  soldiers,  fresh  from  the  luxuries 


118  BERNARD     LILE. 

of  home,  bore  up  under  every  discouragement,  with  a  forti- 
tude unsurpassed  by  that  of  the  army  of  Washington  in  the 
camp  of  Yalley  Forge.  The  high  qualities  they  had  ex- 
hibited in  garrison  were  about  to  be  tested  still  further  in 
the  open  field.  The  Alamo  had  fallen,  and  its  brave  de- 
fenders— crushed,  not  conquered,  had  been  swept  from  the 
path  of  the  invader.  The  slightest  acquaintance  with  mili- 
tary operations  indicated  Goliad  as  the  next  point  of  attack. 
On  the  12th  of  March,  Colonel  Fannin  sent  Captain  King, 
with  his  company,  to  bring  in  some  unprotected  families 
from  the  Mission  of  Refugio.  To  divide  his  force  at  such 
a  time  was  not  the  act  of  a  prudent  military  leader,  but  it 
indicated  the  presence  of  a  higher  and  a  nobler  quality — 
humanity.  Th«  great  Bruce,  in  one  of  his  direst  straits, 
halted  his  little  band,  and  freely  exposed  his  own  life,  and 
the  lives  of  those  who  were  with  him,  to  English  butchery, 
rather  than  leave  a  single  woman  in  distress.  Amid  all 
the  achievements  that  made  his  name  immortal,  none  shine 
with  a  more  enduring  lustre.  The  hand  that  crushed  Sir 
Henry  de  Bohun's  helm — the  courage  no  danger  could 
daunt — the  energy  no  despair  could  chill,  and  the  wisdom 
that  broke  the  yoke  of  England,  may  cease  to  be  remem- 
bered, but  the  heart  that  melted  at  a  woman's  wail  is  em- 
balmed for  ever.  Actuated  by  like  feelings,  Fannin  sent 
King  to  the  Mission,  and  by  this  act  sacrificed,  in  the  end, 
his  own  life,  and  spread  mourning  through  Texas  and  the 
States.  King  encountered  an  overwhelming  Mexican  force 
at  the  Mission.  Taking  refuge  in  the  church,  with  twenty- 
eight  men,  he  defended  himself  with  desperate  courage 
until  the  arrival  of  Lieutenant  Colonel  Ward,  with  a  bat- 
talion, to  his  relief.  The  Mexicans  then  drew  off,  but  soon 
after,  being  also  reinforced,  returned  and  reinvested  the 
church.  Three  several  assaults  were  made,  and  successively 
repulsed  with  immense  slaughter.  Some  boys,  with  a 


BERNARD     LILE.      .  119 

commissioned  officer,  occupied  the  yard  of  the  church,  and 
fought  with  such  obstinate  valor  as  to  call  forth  the  warmest 
plaudits  of  Ward.  Against  this  point  the  efforts  of  the 
Mexicans  were  now  directed.  Formed  in  close  column, 
firmly  and  silently  they  came  on.  At  the  distance  of  a 
hundred  yards,  they  deployed  into  line — detachments  from 
the  two  wings  took  the  yard  in  flank,  and  the  centre  at- 
tacked fiercely  in  front.  The  fate  of  the  "  little  brothers," 
as  they  were  christened,  appeared  inevitable.  A  tall  and 
powerful  man  glided  among  them ;  with  a  quick  step  he 
passed  from  one  to  the  other;  "Keep  under  cover,  and 
hold  your  fire  my  little  heroes ;  wait  for  the  signal. "  The 
enemy  approached  within  thirty  yards — the  rifle  of  Bernard 
Lile — for  it  was  he — rose  to  his  shoulder, — and  the  fore- 
most Mexican  bit  the  dust.  Quick  as  thought,  the  boys 
responded  to  the  signal.  Their  wasting  fire  speedily  dis- 
ordered the  Mexican  ranks.  An  officer  in  the  uniform  of 
a  colonel  rode  among  them,  fiercely  waving  his  sword,  and 
threatening  instant  death  to  the  fugitives.  The  shattered 
lines  was  reformed.  They  were  greeted  by  withering 
volleys  from  the  yard ;  still  they  pressed  on  steadily  and 
sternly  over  the  dying  and  the  dead.  The  leading  files 
were  in  a  few  feet  of  the  stone  fence,  when  another  hurri- 
cane of  bullets  swept  through  them,  and  again  they  were 
broken.  Again  that  daring  officer  checked  their  flight; 
again  he  renewed  their  disordered  ranks;  again  he  led* 
them  to  the  assault.  "  There,"  said  Bernard  Lile,  "  is  the 
truest  soldier  I  have  ever  seen  in  a  Mexican  uniform.  It 
is  a  pity  to  harm  him ;  but  my  little  favorites  here  must 
not  be  sacrificed  for  a  punctilio. "  Even  as  he  spoke,  his 
eye  was  glancing  along  the  barrel  of  his  rifle.  A  sharp 
report  followed.  The  Mexican  reeled  in  the  saddle — 
grasped  convulsively  the  mane  of  his  horse,  then  tumbled 
heavily  to  the  ground.  A  single  volley  drove  the  dis- 


120  BERNARD     LILE. 

spirited  assailants  from  the  field.  Profiting  by  the  leisure 
afforded  him,  Ward  made  a  careful  inspection  of  his  com- 
mand. Three  of  the  boys  were  too  badly  wounded  to 
recover.  His  losses  in  other  respects  were  trifling.  The 
inspection,  however,  revealed  the  appalling  fact,  that  not 
three  rounds  of  ammunition  remained.  The  enemy  had 
disappeared,  but  they  were  unquestionably  close  at  hand, 
and  were  probably  only  waiting  for  reinforcements  to 
renew  the  attack.  To  retreat  was  unavoidable,  yet  a  re- 
treat in  the  face  of  an  enemy  so  greatly  superior,  across 
an  open  prairie,  with  no  cavalry,  and  no  artillery,  was  an 
achievement  Xenophon  would  have  hesitated  to  attempt. 
Night  came,  and  the  order  to  march  was  given ;  but  first 
it  became  necessary  to  communicate  to  the  wounded  boys 
the  painful  fact  that  it  was  impossible  to  remove  them. 
The  reply  of  the  little  sufferers  deserves  to  be  perpetuated 
in  tablets  of  gold  :  "  Never  mind  us ;  put  some  water  in 
reach,  and  save  yourselves."  The  big  tears  came  to  the 
eye  of  Simpson,  who  had  fought  like  a  lion 'throughout 
the  day. 

"By  the  Lord,"  he  exclaimed  to  Lile,  "this  shall  not 
be.  I'll  carry  one  myself — wont  you  take  another,  cap- 
tain ?" 

"  Willingly,"  answered  Lile,  "would  I  engage  to  carry 
twice  the  weight  to  the  Gaudaloupe,  if  it  would  save  them  ; 
but  it  would  be  cruel  to  move  them,  Tom.  The  one  who 
is  least  hurt  has  not  three  hours  to  live.  It  is  best  to  let 
them  die  in  peace. " 

A  soft  couch  was  made  by  spreading  the  blankets,  taken 
from  the  dead  Mexicans  around  the  church,  upon  the  floor. 
The  dying  boys  were  laid  upon  it — water  was  given  them 
— with  sobs  and  tears  their  comrades  bade  them  adieu,  and 
set  out  upon  their  hazardous  march.  Simpson  was  the 
last  to  leave  the  church.  It  was  fearful  to  look  upon  the 


BERNARD     LILE.  121 

fierce  grief  that  shook  his  sturdy  frame.  Kneeling  upon 
the  bed  of  blankets,  he  pressed  a  kiss  upon  each  of  their 
pale  cheeks,  and  recorded  a  dark  oath,  which  drew  tears 
from  many  a  Mexican  mother  and  wife  in  after  years. 

"Them  boys,"  he  muttered,  as  he  walked  along,  "will be 
chopped  into  sausage  meat,  by  the  d — d  brutes  who  couldn't 
look  them  in  the  face  when  they  had  guns  in  their  hands. 
If  God  spares  me,  for  every  drop  of  blood  they've  lost,  I'll 
draw  ten  from  Mexican  veins,  and  I'm  not  sure  but  what 
it  will  git  to  be  twenty,  before  I  begin  to  be  particular 
in  counting." 

Darkly  the  little  band  made  their  way  towards  Victoria. 
At  the  crossing  of  the  San  Antonio,  Lile  and  Simpson 
who  were  attached  to  no  company,  and  who,  since  their 
entrance  into  Texas,  had  fought  whenever  and  wherever  it 
suited  them,  abandoned  the  main  body  with  the  purpose  of 
rejoining  Col.  Fannin,  whose  post,  they  had  no  doubt, 
was  by  this  time  beleaguered  by  the  enemy.  They  reached 
Goliad  to  find  that  it  had  been  abandoned  by  the  Ameri- 
cans. In  obedience  to  an  order  from  Gen.  Houston,  Col. 
Fannin  had  evacuated  the  place  on  the  19th  of  March, 
and  commenced  a  toilsome  retreat  to  Yictoria.  Following 
in  the  track  of  the  retreating  force,  our  adventurers  learned 
slowly,  one  by  one,  the  events  we  shall  condense  into  a 
continuous  narrative. 

Col.  Fannin's  command  amounted  to  two  hundred  and 
seventy-five  effective  men.  Four  companies  of  infantry, 
under  Captains  Shackelford,  Pettis,  Duval,  and  McMane- 
man,  with  a  few  regular  artillerists  under  Captain  Westover. 
The  river  was  crossed  with  difficulty,  on  account  of  the 
inefficiency  of  the  teams  drawing  the  cannon.  The  guns 
were  finally  dragged  up  the  bank  by  the  men — the  untiring 
Shackelford  himself  wading  into  the  stream,  and  seizing  a 
wheel,  set  the  example  of  rolling  it  up  with  his  own  hands. 

11 


122  BERNARD     LILE. 

After  passing  the  San  Antonio,  and  when  within  five  miles 
of  the  Coleto  timber,  a  halt  was  determined  on,  against  the 
earnest  remonstrances  of  Captain  Shackelford,  for  the  pur- 
pose of  resting  the  wearied  men  and  cattle.  That  gallant 
officer,  with  a  prudence  even  more  commendable  than  the 
high  courage  that  led  him  to  the  field,  insisted  upon  con- 
tinuing their  march  to  the  timber,  where  the  Mexican 
cavalry  would  be  useless,  and  the  men  in  some  degree  pro- 
tected by  the  trees  from  the  overwheming  odds  the  enemy 
were  hourly  expected  to  bring  against  them.  He  was 
unfortunately  overruled,  and  the  command  halted  where  it 
was.  In  one  of  his  letters  to  the  president  of  the  conven- 
tion, Col.  Fannin  had  said,  that  while  he  had  no  superior 
as  a  company  officer  in  Texas,  he  had  grave  doubts  of  his 
own  fitness  for  the  command  of  a  considerable  force. 
Whether  this  criticism  upon  his  own  merits  was  just,  or 
whether  it  flowed  from  too  great  modesty,  can  never  be 
satisfactorily  determined.  He  was  cut  off  before  time  and 
opportunity  were  allowed  for  the  solution  of  the  question. 
It  is  certain,  however,  that  he  was  one  of  the  most  gifted, 
as  he  was  one  of  the  bravest,  of  the  early  defenders  of  Texas. 
The  two  errors  contemporary  testimony  ascribe  to  him 
were  venial  faults.  The  first  was  dictated  by  humanity — 
the  second  sprung  from  the  lion-like  nature  that  despised 
danger  too  much  to  guard  sufficiently  against  its  ap- 
proaches. The  one  has  its  apology  in  the  best  feelings 
of  the  heart — a  little  experience  in  the  field  would  soon 
have  corrected  the  other.  Still  it  is  permitted  to  the 
friends  of  those  who  fell,  to  monrn  a  mistake  that  had  so 
deplorable  an  end.  Had  the  counsel  of  Shackelford  been 
followed,  the  bloodiest  page  in  the  history  of  Texas  might 
never  have  been  written,  and  the  lamented  Fannin  himself 
might  now  be  alive,  to  enjoy  the  shelter  of  that  tree  whose 
infant  roots  his  life-blood  watered. 


BERNARD     LILE.  A23 

For  an  hour  the  halt  continued.  To  the  dweller  in 
cities  that  space  seems  brief  and  unimportant.  It  is  only 
another  drop  of  life  wasted — another  talent  buried.  But 
how  often  has  the  fate  of  armies  and  of  empires  hung  upon 
that  little  spot  of  time.  An  hour,  and  Fannin  would  have 
been  in  easy  reach  of  the  Coleto  timber.  An  hour,  and 
oh  !  how  different  would  have  been  the  tale  borne  to  the 
widowed  wives,  agonized  sisters,  and  bereaved  mothers  of 
a  band  as  chivalrous  as  Rome  or  Sparta  ever  sent  to  battle. 
There  were  those  in  that  little  army  who  knew  its  import- 
ance, but  they  knew  also  the  duty  of  a  soldier  too  well  to 
murmur.  Gloomily  and  wearily  they  marked  the  minutes 
as  they  passed — gloomily  they  stretched  themselves  upon 
the  long  grass,  inwardly  chaffing,  not  at  danger,  not  at  the 
overshadowing  doom,  but  of  the  probability  of  a  defeat 
where  victory  might  so  easily  be  secured,  or  the  more 
galling  alternative  of  being  surrounded  on  the  prairie,  and 
starved  into  capitulation,  without  a  good  blow  struck,  or  a 
laurel  gathered  to  twine  about  their  distant  graves.  At 
length  that  hour  of  fate  rolled  by,  and  the  line  of  march  waa 
resumed.  For  nearly  four  miles  no  enemy  appeared,  and 
the  near  timber  awakened  hopes  that  were  soon  to  be  sadly 
crushed.  The  bugle  notes  of  a  cavalry  troop  came  floating 
over  the  prairie.  There  was  a  wild  fierceness  in  the  barbaric 
music  borrowed  by  Old  Spain  from  its  Moorish  conquerors. 
Slowly,  in  firm  order,  and  with  the  unmistakable  bearing 
of  tried  veterans,  seven  hundred  .of  the  lancers  of  Mexico 
filed  from  a  skirt  of  woods  to  the  front,  and  moved  obliquely 
across  the  path  of  Fannin.  Guidons  waved  gracefully  in  the 
passing  breeze — gleams  of  light  flashed  from  the  steel  heads 
of  their  long  lances — gay  uniforms  and  gaudy  trappings 
lent  their  varied  colors  to  the  martial  show.  In  this  emer- 
gency the  resolution  of  the  American  commander  was 
promptly  taken.  To  cut  his  way  through  to  the  timber, 


124  BERNARD     LILE. 

was  the  dictate  of  prudence  as  well  as  of  manliness. 
Closing  his  men  into  a  compact  mass,  he  moved  directly 
upon  the  intervening  horsemen.  But  now  emerging  from 
the  same  point  of  woods  where  the  cavalry  had  first  been 
seen,  a  dark  column  of  twelve  hundred  infantry  stretched 
itself  out  upon  the  prairie.  Here,  also,  the  amunition 
wagon  broke  down.  Captivity,  or  battle  upon  the  enemy's 
own  terms,  were  the  only  alternatives  that  remained.  At 
once  a  hollow  square  was  formed,  and  with  little  hope  save 
that  of  a  glorious  death,  the  devoted  band  awaited  the 
assault.  The  enemy  began  by  firing  at  long  distances 
with  their  escopetas.  No  shot  was  returned  in  reply. 
They  approached  nearer,  and  poured  in  another  volley. 
Still  no  answer.  Again  they  advanced,  and  fired.  Several 
of  Fannin's  men  were  wounded  by  this  discharge.  A  ball 
carried  away  the  cock  of  his  own  rifle,  and  another  buried 
itself  in  the  breech.  Calm  and  unmoved,  he  stood  erect 
among  the  bullets — from  time  to  time  ordering  his  men  not 
to  fire  yet.  The  enemy  who  had  now  closed  within  a  hun- 
dred yards,  halted.  It  was  evident  they  did  not  intend  to 
approach  any  nearer  to  the  front  face  of  the  square,  which 
was  composed  of  the  companies  of  Shackelford  and  Pettis. 
The  impatience  of  the  troops  was  gratified  by  an  order  to 
fire,  and  the  battle  began  in  earnest.  The  remnant  of  the 
Tampico  regiment,  which  had  survived  the  storming  of 
the  Almo,  charged  the  left  face.  They  were  received  by  a 
murderous  discharge  from  a  piece  of  artillery,  and  when  a 
little  nearer  were  mowed  down  by  the  score  by  Duval's 
riflemen.  Almost  at  the  same  time  the  rear  face  was 
charged  by  a  body  of  lancers,  yelling  and  shouting  like 
so  many  fiends  broke  loose  from  hell.  A  sharp  fire  of 
canister  arrested  them  in  mid  career,  and  horse  and  man 
went  down  together  on  the  bloody  plain.  For  six  hours, 
without  intermission,  the  battle  raged.  For  six  hours  that 


BERNARD     LILE.  125 

little  band  of  heroes  held  at  bay  a  force  of  more  than  seven 
times  their  nnmber.  Assailed  on  every  side  by  lance,  and 
bullet,  and  bayonet — their  guns  useless  for  the  want  of 
water  to  sponge  them — without  a  breastwork,  or  trench, 
or  tree,  or  the  slightest  protection  of  any  description, 
unshrinking  and  unquailing  they  fought  on.  Now  a  heavy 
volley  from  the  enemy  makes  a  horrid  gap  in  that  living 
wall.  The  dead  and  the  dying  are  borne  within — the  square 
contracts,  and  again  a  solid  front  is  presented  to  the  mur- 
derous shower.  And  so  on  through  the  day,  and  when  the 
shadow  of  the  night  came  down,  that  square  was  unbroken, 
and  the  enemy  drew  off  from  a  field  over  which  the  pennons 
of  the  volunteers  still  fluttered.  Col.  Fannin  had  been 
seriously  wounded  early  in  the  action,  but  continued  through 
the  day  to  cheer  and  encourage  his  men.  The  unshaken 
valor  they  had  exhibited  was  about  to  be  rendered  doubly 
illustrious.  Under  cover  of  the  darkness,  there  was  a  fair 
prospect  for  those  who  were  unhurt  to  reach  the  timber, 
and  make  good  their  retreat.  It  was  soon  ascertained, 
however,  that,  during  the  engagement,  their  teams  had  all 
been  killed  or  scattered,  and  if  they  retreated,  they  must 
leave  their  wounded  comrades,  of  whom  sixty  were  lying 
in  their  midst,  to  the  mercy  of  a  merciless  foe.  With  one 
accord  they  resolved  to  remain,  and  share  together  what- 
ever fate  might  befall  them.  With  the  dawn  of  morn,  it 
was  discovered  that  the  Mexicans  had  received  a  reinforce- 
ment of  five  hundred  men — they  had  also  erected  a  battery 
beyond  the  range  of  Fannin's  rifles.  The  volunteers  were 
now  in  some  sort  protected  by  a  slight  earth-work,  thrown  up 
during  the  night.  Carefully  husbanding  their  ammunition, 
they  received  the  Mexican  fire  without  attempting  to  return 
it.  Cannon  balls  whistled  over  them,  and  around  them, 
but  no  answering  echo  came  from  the  shallow  trench  and 
fragile  breastwork.  Deliberately,  and  beyond  the  reach  of 

11* 


126  BERNARD     LILE. 

harm,  the  enemy  kept  up  the  work  of  murder.  After  a 
while  they  hoisted  a  signal  for  negotiations.  Major  Wal- 
lace was  sent  out  to  them.  Gen.  Urea  insisted  on  treating 
with  the  commanding  officer  in  person.  Sorely  wounded 
as  he  was,  Col.  Fannin  determined  to  comply  with  the 
request.  As  he  pimped  by  Captain  Shackelford,  nearly 
one-half  of  whose  company  had  been  killed  or  wounded  on 
the  day  before,  that  gallant  officer,  his  tall  form  unbowed, 
his  bronzed  cheek  not  a  shade  paler,  his  voice  clear,  and 
without  a  tremor,  addressed  him  in  the  determined  language 
of  a  man  for  whom  death  has  no  terrors,  when  honor  and 
duty  gild  its  coming. 

"If  you  can  save  our  wounded,  colonel — obtain  fair  and 
honorable  terms,  and  such  as  you  can  rely  on,  capitulate. 
If  not,  come  back  among  us — our  graves  are  already  dug 
— we  know  how  to  make  them  immortal  before  falling  into 
them." 

The  Mexican  general  not  only  offered  terms  fair  and 
honorable,  but  more  highly  favorable  than  Fannin  had  a 
right  to  expect.  How  he  intended  to  keep  them,  can  only 
be  known  to  his  God.  How  he  did  keep  them,  will  be  seen 
hereafter. 

It  was  the  20th  of  March.  The  sun  had  not  far  to 
travel  on  his  westward  journey,  when  Lile  and  Simpson 
crossed  the  San  Antonio.  Before  leaving  the  skirt  of 
wood  that  runs  along  the  river's  bank,  they  looked  out 
carefully  upon  the  prairie.  A  strong  body  of  Mexicans 
was  marching  towards  them.  Secreting  themselves  care- 
fully, they  waited  its  approach.  It  was  the  guard  of 
Urea  driving  the  unwounded  volunteers,  who  had  sur- 
rendered with  Fannin,  back  to  Goliad.  Straggling  parties 
of  Mexicans  continued  to  pass  until  the  sun  went  down. 
The  two  then  emerged  into  the  open  prairie,  keeping  a 
little  way  from  the  direct  track  to  Victoria. 


BERNARD     LILE.  127 

"It  is  all  over,"  said  Lile;  "there  has  been  a  battle 
somewhere  near,  and  the  Mexican  army  is  still  encamped 
about  the  spot,  or  else  they  have  murdered  the  wounded. " 

"That's  whatHhey've  done,"  replied  Simpson,  with  a 
fierce  oath,  "  and  here  have  I  let  at  least  three  hundred  of 
the  devils  go  by  without  drawing  a  lead  on  the  first  one. " 

"Never  mind,"  rejoined  his  companion,  "there  is  time 
enough  for  that.  Fear  not  that  I  will  leave  this  neigh- 
borhood before  you  have  an  opportunity  of  shedding  blood 
enough  to  satiate  the  deadliest  revenge." 

The  long  stride  of  men  accustomed  to  pedestrian  exer- 
cise, carried  them  rapidly  over  the  level  country.  Far 
ahead  the  camp-fires  of  a  considerable  army  blazed  up 
along  the  edge  of  the  Coleto  timber. 

"They  will  keep  poor  watch  to-night,"  said  Lile;  "for 
they  know  that  the  last  troops  on  this  side  the  Gaudaloupe 
are  either  dead'  or  captives.  It  will  be  easy  to  crawl  near 
enough  to  mingle  mourning  with  their  rejoicing." 

No  proposition  could  have  been  more  acceptable  to 
Simpson  in  the  then  temper  of  his  mind.  It  was  agreed 
to  approach  within  rifle-shot  of  the  nearest  fire,  select  each 
one  his  own  mark,  and  make  their  escape  before  the  con- 
fusion would  enable  the  foe  to  begin  a  pursuit.  Diverging 
to  the  left,  they  reached  the  timber  above  the  encampment, 
and  cautiously,  through  the  shadows  of  the  dark  wpod, 
drew  near  and  nearer  to  the  blazing  fires. 

"Look,"  whispered  Lile,  laying  his  hand  on  Simpson's 
arm;  "look  through  this  opening.  There  is  an  object 
moving  backwards  and  forwards  between  us  and  the  light. 
It  must  be  a  sentry. " 

"  I  see  it,"  was  the  reply,  in  the  same  low  tone ;  "  but  it's 
no  trouble  to  get  rid  of  him." 

"  Not  much.  Still  we  must  wait — perhaps  an  hour — 
perhaps  more." 


128  BERNARD     LILE. 

"Why?  I  can  stop  that  fellow's  breathing  in  ten 
minutes,  without  disturbing  the  whippoorwill  on  the  tree 
above  his  head." 

"Very  likely.  But  we  do  not  know  when  the  guard 
will  be  relieved,  and  if  they  should  come  around  before  we 
had  effected  our  purpose,  and  find  a  comrade  dead  upon 
his  post,  an  alarm  would  be  given  which  would  make  our 
situation  more  exciting  than  agreeable.  This  man  may 
thank  his  stars  for  the  good  fortune  that  has  placed  him 
on  duty  at  this  particular  time — the  one  who  takes  his 
place  will  have  less  cause  to  be  grateful. " 

Approaching  as  near  as  they  could  with  safety,  they 
took  advantage  of  the  screen  afforded  by  a  fallen  pecan- 
tree,  and  waited  for  the  relief  to  come  round.  Very  soon 
the  quick  challenge  of  a  sentry  was  heard — the  counter- 
sign was  given — a  new  man  was  put  upon  the  post — his 
instructions  communicated  in  a  whisper,  and  the  relief 
moved  on.  When  the  tread  of  the  marching  guard  died 
away,  Lile  rose,  and  said  : 

"  Now  is  our  time.  We  have  two  hours  before  us.  Give 
me  your  rifle  until  the  sentinel  is  quieted." 

Without  a  word  Simpson  handed  him  his  rifle,  drew  his 
knife,  and  disappeared  in  the  direction  of  the  sentry.  In 
less  than  ten  minutes  he  returned,  whispered  "  all  is  clear," 
and  resumed  his  gun.  The  two  then  made  directly  for  the 
nearest  camp-fire.  As  they  passed  the  spot  where  the 
sentry  had  been  posted,  Lile  noticed  that  he  was  sitting 
with  his  back  against  a  tree,  apparently  sound  asleep ;  but 
a  dark  tide  that  welled  from  his  bosom,  was  making  its 
way  slowly  over  the  ground.  Nearing  the  fires,  they  dis- 
covered that  no  tents  had  been  pitched,  and  they  judged 
rightly  that  the  halt  in  that  place  was  intended  to  be  a 
brief  one.  Gathered  about  some  blazing  logs,  ten  or 
twelve  Mexican  soldiers  were  intently  engaged  in  the  fas- 


BERNARD     LILE.  129 

cinating  game  of  Monte.  Indicating  by  signs  the  different 
objects  at  which  they  meant  to  fire,  their  rifles  rose  together, 
and  together  the  sharp  echoes  rang  through  the  forest. 
Turning  instantly  with  the  speed  of  the  wild  deer,  they 
bounded  back  along  the  margin  of  the  little  stream.  To 
the  noise  and  confusion  prevailing  in  the  camp  they  gave 
little  heed,  well  knowing  that  no  continued  pursuit  would 
be  attempted  in  the  dark.  At  the  distance  of  half  a  mile 
they  halted,  and  deliberately  reloaded  their  guns. 

"  They  will  not  move  now  before  sun-up,"  said  Lile,  "for 
they  will  never  believe  two  men  would  have  ventured  on 
such  a  deed,  if  unsupported.  It  will  give  Ward  two  or 
three  hours  more  time,  if  he  is  not  already  captured,  as  I 
fear  he  is.  For  him  we  can  do  nothing  more.  Let  us 
back  to  Goliad,  we  may  help  some  of  the  prisoners  to 
escape." 

Simpson  gladly  acceded  to  the  proposition.  Aside 
from  his  willingness  to  share  any  danger  his  companion 
chose  to  encounter,  he  had  another  motive.  When  kneel- 
ing by  the  side  of  the  wounded  boys  in  the  Mission  Church, 
he  had  recorded  an  oath  in  heaven.  Whenever  he  closed 
his  eyes  he  fancied  he  could  see  thin  silken  locks  clotted 
with  blood — thin  beardless  faces  disfigured  by  a  brutal  sol- 
diery— their  fair  bosoms  gashed  with  unnumbered  wounds. 
Gloomily  he  brooded  over  the  fate  he  believed,  and  believed 
truly,  had  overtaken  them.  Revenge  is  a  natural  instinct 
of  the  human  heart.  In  the  gentlest  of  our  race  it  takes 
years  of  watchful  training  to  soften  and  subdue  it.  Long 
and  bitter  must  the  struggle  be  before  we  receive,  without 
ripening,  the  divine  precept,  "  Vengeance  is  mine :  I  will 
repay,  saith  the  Lord."  The  duty  of  forgiveness  was  one 
Simpson  had  never  learned.  His  separation  from  civilized 
life  and  his  association  with  the  Indian  tribes,  had,  on  the 
contrary,  cherished  and  strengthened  the  vengeful  feelinga 


180  ^  BERNARD     LILB. 

of  his  nature.  To  him  there  was  nothing  holier  than  the 
blow  that  sent  the  murderer  after  his  victim ;  and  he  would 
have  scorned  himself  if,  at  any  time,  he  had  hesitated  to 
take  life  for  life.  In  the  present  case  there  was  much  to 
palliate,  if  not  justify  the  bloody  resolution  he  had  formed. 
The  invader  had  entered  Texas  with  the  avowed  purpose 
of  extermination,  and  his  acts  thus  far  had  been  in  accord- 
ance with  the  proclamation.  Butchery  of  the  living  had 
been  accompanied  with  the  foulest  indignitie*»to  the  dead. 
The  bodies  of  the  slain  had  first  been  mutilated,  and  then 
left  to  rot  where  they  fell.  The  only  wonder  is,  that  the 
feeling  thus  awakened  was  arrested  where  it  was. 

Without  rest  or  refreshment  the  two  friends  again  struck 
across  the  prairie  for  the  San  Antonio.  For  days  they 
skulked  around  Goliad,  subsisting  on  a  deer  Simpson  had 
killed,  and  wild  onions  in  the  river  bottom.  Once  Lile 
formed  the 'resolution  of  killing  the  sentries,  and  penetrat- 
ing the  town  during  the  night.  A  little  reflection  taught 
him  this  would  be  superflous,  and  might  give  the  Mexicans 
a  pretext  for  murdering  their  prisoners.  On  the  25th  they 
saw  Ward  and  his  companions  brought  in.  At  daylight 
on  the  27th,  Lile,  who  Was  sleeping  at  the  root  of  a  tree, 
was  roused  by  Simpson. 

"  What's  in  the  wind  now  ?  They  are  marching  our 
men  out  towards  the  river  with  their  knapsacks  on.  What 
does  it  mean  ?" 

"  It  means  treachery  and  murder,"  answered  Lile.  "Cold, 
black  and  heartless  murder  I" 

A  little  distance  from  the  river  the  prisoners  were  made 
to  kneel  down  with  their  faces  to  the  river.  A  suspicion  of 
the  truth  flashed  over  one  of  the  men.  He  sprang  to  his  feet, 
loudly  exclaiming,  "  Boys,  they  are  going  to  kill  us ! — die 
with  your  faces  to  them  like  men  !"  A  volley  of  musketry 
silenced  his  voice  forever.  Another  succeeded.  With  a 


BEKNAKD     LILE.  131 

shout  of  hell  the  Mexicans  rushed  on  with  lance  and  bayo- 
net to  complete  the  work.  Dying  groans  mingled  plenti- 
fully with  the  brutal  curses  of  the  slayers,  but  not  a  craven 
cry,  not  a  prayer  for  mercy  issued  from  the  mangled  mass. 
The  agony  of  torn  sinews  and  crashing  bones  made  itself 
heard  ;  but  no  begging,  no  whining,  no  sign  of  terror  added 
to  the  infernal  gratification  of  the  murderers. 

As  Simpson  looked  upon  the  scene,  the  veins  of  his 
temples  swelled  and  worked  like  writhing  serpents.  Twice 
he  raised  his  rifle,  and  twice  his  comrade  laid  his  hand 
upon  the  lock,  and  sternly  muttered  "be  still !"  When  it 
was  over,  they  both  turned  away  and  penetrated  deeper  in 
the  wood.  'An  hour  later  they  were  at  the  ford  of  the  San 
Antonio.  A  troop  of  Lancers  was  approaching.  As 
the  foremost  files  entered  the  stream  they  were  greeted  by 
that  peculiar  report  of  the  western  rifle,  (sharp,  quick  and 
deadly,)  no  other  fire-arm  ever  gives  out;  two  bodies 
floated  down  the  river — two  steeds  struggled  masterless  to 
the  bank.  Promptly  the  officer  in  command  gave  the  order 
to  charge — but  the  ford  was  deep  and  difficult,  and  before 
the  passage  was  effected  two  more  saddles  were  empty. 
Emerging  from  the  river  and  finding  that  in  consequence 
of  the  tangled  undergrowth,  as  well  as  the  swampy  nature 
of  the  soil,  pursuit  on  horseback  was  impossible,  the  Mexi- 
can officer  dismounted  the  greater  part  of  his  force,  and 
proceeded  to  scour  the  woods  in  every  direction.  This 
was  exactly  what  the  Texan  scouts  had  foreseen  and  de- 
sired. Trained  to  the  woods,  they  knew  all  the  advantages 
they  possessed  and  purposely  drew  the  enemy  further  and 
further  down  the  river.  Frequent  vollies  of  escopetas  sounded 
through  the  woods.  Occasionally  only  the  rifle  spoke  in 
reply,  but  its  every  tone  was  a  funeral  knell.  The  Mexi- 
cans soon  discovered  that  a  longer  chase  held  out  no  pros- 
pect except  that  of  their  own  destruction,  and  commenced 


132  BERNARD     LILE. 

a  rapid  retreat.  Lile  and  Simpson  had  no  idea  of  parting 
company  thus.  The  relative  position  of  the  parties  were 
reversed.  The  pursued  became  the  pursuers.  With  dogged 
pertinacity  they  hung  upon  the  steps  of  the  retiring  foe. 
Breathless  with  fatigue  and  pale  with  terror,  the  Mexicans 
at  length  regained  the  road.  Mounting  their  horses  they 
fled  with  disgraceful  speed  from  the  fatal  spot,  leaving 
fifteen  of  their  number  weltering  in  blood.  Upon  examin- 
ing the  horses  of  the  slain,  the  two  Americans  found  a 
small  quantity  of  dried  beef,  and  a  much  more  considerable 
supply  of  parched  meal,  mixed  with  grated  sugar.  Trans- 
ferring these  to  a  couple  of  the  best  steeds,  and  supplying 
themselves  with  two  Mexican  blankets  each,  they  mounted 
and  set  off  in  a  gallop  to  join  the  main  army  of  Texas.  It 
was  known  that  General  Houston  had  retreated  towards 
the  Brazos.  A  column  under  Sezma  was  hanging  on  his 
rear.  Santa  Anna  was  moving  across  the  country  with  a 
strong  force,  due  east  from  San  Antonio.  Ninety  or  a 
hundred  miles  to  the  south,  the  division  that  had  destroyed 
Fannin  and  Ward,  were  also  moving  eastward.  In  all 
direction  clouds  of  light  troops  scoured  the  open  country. 
The  whole  distance  is  prairie,  broken  only  when  a  running 
stream  makes  its  way  to  the  Gulf.  The  timber  on  the 
Colorado  is  the  widest  and  that  is  only  about  seven  miles 
in  extent.  Lile's  object  was  to  avoid  the  roving  bands  of 
Mexicans,  and  reach  General  Houston's  camp  with  as  little 
delay  as  possible.  The  open  nature  of  the  country  made 
this  a  work  both  of  difficulty  and  of  danger.  The  first  day 
their  horses  were  completely  knocked  up.'  They  were 
abandoned,  and  the  journey  continued  on  foot.  It  now 
became  imperative  that  they  should  hide  during  the  day, 
and  travel  only  at  night.  The  prairies  of  Texas  are  fre- 
quently dotted  with  small  islands  of  timber,  called  in  the 
phraseology  of  the  country,  "  Motts."  Near  these  there 


BERNARD     LIVE.  133 

are  usually  low,  marshy  places,  where  the  water  collects 
during  the  rainy  season,  often  remaining  through  the  sum- 
mer heats.     On  the  third  day,  impelled  by  the  desire  of 
concealment,  as  well  as  for  the  convenience  of  water,  the 
two  friends  had  taken  shelter  in  one  of  these  motts.     Long 
continued  fatigue  and  watchfulness  had  done  its  work  even 
upon  their  toughened  sinews  and  iron  frames.  About  noon 
they  awakened  from  a  deep  sleep  to  find  that  a  party  of  ten 
mounted  Mexicans  were  within  a  few  hundred  yards  of 
them.      Flight  would  inevitably  result  in  discovery  and 
probably  death.     Concealing  themselves  as  well  as  they 
could  among  the  bushes,  they  waited  for  any  advantage  the 
chapter  of  accidents  might  offer.  From  the  careless  manner 
the  Mexicans   approached,  it  was   clear  that  they  were 
wholly  unsuspicious  of  the  presence  of  an  enemy.     Their 
horses  were  watered,  and  "  staked  out"  on  the  prairie  to 
enable  them  to  graze,  when  the  party  piled  their  arms,  and 
began  to  prepare  the  noon-day  meal.    While  thus  engaged, 
at  some  distance  from  their  guns,  two  rifle  shots  echoed  from 
the  timber  behind  them — two  bodies  fell  forward  on  the 
little  fire,  extinguishing  it  with  blood.     With  drawn  knives 
and  a  fierce  shout,  Lile  and  Simpson  rushed  upon  the  sur- 
vivors.    Panic  struck  at  the  suddenness  of  the  assault,  the 
Mexicans   scattered   and   fled   precipitately.     Lile  halted 
when  he  reached  the  pile  of  arms.     Not  so  did  Simpson. 
With  terrible  speed  he  followed  in  the  track  of  the  fugi- 
tives.    The  foot  of  the  hindmost  caught  in  the  tangled 
grass,  and  he  fell.     As  he   struggled  up  the  knife  was 
sheathed  in  his  back.     The  next  one  sank  upon  his  knees 
and  begged  for  mercy.    "  Yes,"  was  the  fierce  reply,  "such 
mercy  as  you  showed  Fannin."    The  blow  descended,  and 
the  blood  from  the  main  artery  of  the  neck  spouted  in  the 
hunter's  face.     Deliberately  he  wiped  away  the  crimson 
stains  and  rejoined  his  companion. 

12 


134-  BERNARD     LILE. 

"I  reckon,"  he  said,  "we've  about  paid  for  the  boys; 
but  it  will  take  a  life  time  to  pay  for  Goliad. " 

Two  of  the  best  horses  and  all  the  provisions,  as  on  the 
former  occasion,  were  appropriated  without  scruple.  The 
next  day  they  learned  from  a  scouting  party  of  Texans, 
whom  they  accidentally  encountered,  that  General  Houston 
had  received  the  news  of  Fannin's  defeat  on  the  evening  of 
the  25th  of  March,  and  had  fallen  back  to  some  point  on 
the  Brazos,  believed  to  be  San  Felipe.  Communicating, 
in  their  turn,  the  story  of  the  massacre  they  had  witnessed 
at  Goliad,  they  pursued  their  way  towards  the  head- quarters 
of  the  "  Army  of  Freedom."  On  the  evening  of  the  6th  of 
April  they  reached  San  Felipe  de  Austin,  and  found  its 
smouldering  ruins  occupied  by  the  Mexican  army;  the 
Americans  having  burned  it  to  the  ground  when  compelled 
to  evacuate  it.  Here  they  lost  all  trace  of  General  Hous- 
ton, and  skulked  in  the  neighborhood  for  several  days  before 
learning  that  he  had  gone  in  the  direction  of  Harrisburg. 
It  was  the  evening  of  the  20th  of  April  that  Lile  and 
Simpson  rqde  into  the  camp  of  the  last  army  Texas  was 
able  to  muster.  The  two  armies  lay  in  sight  of  each  other, 
each  occupying  a  body  of  timber  near  Lynch's  ferry  on  the 
San  Jacinto  river,  with  an  open  prairie  between.  There 
had  been  firing  throughout  the  day,  and  Colonel  Sherman 
had  made  a  daring,  but  unsuccessful,  charge  with  sixty- 
eight  men  upon  the  enemy's  artillery.  Being  unsupported, 
and  finding  himself  opposed  by  an  overwhelming  force  of 
cavalry,  infantry  and  artillery,  he  drew  off  in  good  order, 
with  the  loss  of  only  two  men  badly  wounded.  The  main 
body  of  both  armies  had  been  busily  employed  during  the 
day — the  Texans  in  cutting  away  the  brush  and  under- 
growth in  front  of  their  encampment — the  Mexicans  in 
throwing  up  a  breastwork  of  timber  and  earth.  It  was  the 
obvious  policy  of  Santa  Anna  to  remain  where  he  was 


BERNARD     LILE.  "135 

without  striking  a  blow.  He  had  between  six  and  seven 
thousand  soldiers  scattered  over  the  country  in  his  rear,  and 
was  hourly  expecting  reinforcements.  On  the  other  hand, 
Texas  had  collected  the  last  man  she  could  hope  to  muster. 
The  Fabian  policy  heretofore  pursued  by  General  Hous- 
ton, was  abandoned  at  the  urgent  solicitations  of  his  officers, 
and  the  next  day  was  fixed  for  the  decision  of  the  fate  of 
Texas.  Lile  and  Simpson  found  the  Americans  silently 
and  sternly  preparing  for  the  morrow's  battle.  But  one 
fear  was  felt  among  them,  and  that  was  that  their  com- 
mander might  still  judge  it  prudent  to  draw  off  without 
hazarding  a  general  engagement.  Around  every  fire  was 
gathered  a  knot  of  rough  and  hardy  backwoodsmen,  too 
much  excited  for  slumber,  too  gloomily  anxious  and  un- 
certain for  conversation.  Some  were  cleaning  their  fire- 
locks— others  were  carefully  rubbing  the  rust  from  their 
knife-blades.  An  old  man  on  the  verge  of  sixty,  who  had 
put  one  gun  in  order,  was  industriously  engaged  on 
another. 

"  What  do  you  want  with  two  guns,"  asked  a  comrade, 
who  was  near  him. 

"I  want  to  use  them,"  was  the  reply  ;  "my  son  and  son- 
"in-law  were  killed  at  the  Alamo,  and  I  shall  fight  for  both 
to-morrow." 

"It's  not  certain,"  was  the  moody  rejoinder,  "we'll  fight 
at  all  to-morrow.  We've  had  so  many  orders  to  retreat 
that,  by  God,  I  wouldn't  be  surprised  if  we  got  another 
before  morning." 

The  old  man  looked  up  with  an  incredulous  stare.  "  Not 
fight !  Not  fight,  and  Santa  Anna  in  less  than  a  mile  of 
us !  May  I  be  eternally  damoed,  if  '  Old  Sam'  does  re- 
treat, if  I  don't  charge  that  army  by  myself,  and  go  to  join 
my  murdered  boys  1" 

"  And  may  the  devil  fly  away  with  me,"  said  Simpson, 


136'  BERNARD     LILB. 

who  had  been  listening  with  folded  arms  to  the  foregoing 
conversation,  "if  I  don't  charge  with  you." 

"  There  will  be  more  fingers  in  the  pie,"  muttered  two  or 
three  of  the  weather-beaten  group. 

Lile  had  spread  his  blanket  upon  the  ground,  and  was 
half  reclining  upon  it.  His  voice  was  clear  and  cheerful, 
as  he  said : 

"  It  is  wrong  to  doubt  the  General,  comrades.  He  is 
too  good  a  soldier  not  to  know  that  further  retreat  must 
end  either  in  exile  or  the  grave.  Sleep,  and  husband  your 
strength.  You  will  need  it  when  the  sun  rises. " 

At  every  camp-fire  scenes  similar  to  that  just  described  were 
being  enacted.  The  very  intensity  of  their  desire  for  battle 
made  them  dpubt  the  realization  of  their  hopes.  At  intervals 
impatient  ejaculations,  half  stifled  curses,  and  dark  and  dismal 
resolutions,  were  fiercely  muttered  ;  but  for  the  most  part  men 
were  wrapped  in  their  own  meditations,  and  silence  brooded 
over  the  sleepless  host.  The  morning  dissipated  all  shadow 
of  doubt.  Coolly  and  deliberately  the  American  com- 
mander had  weighed  the  chances  of  the  doubtful  struggle. 
Again  and  again  he  had  passed  in  review  every  possible 
contingency.  Prudently  and  thoughtfully  his  resolution 
was  formed — promptly  and  fearlessly  it  was  executed. 
The  order  for  battle  was  given.  With  that  order  came  a 
mighty  change  over  the  spirits  of  the  troops.  The  men 
who  a  few  hours  before  were  sullen,  gloomy,  angry,  almost 
mutinous,  now  sprang  to  their  places  with  joyous  alacrity. 
The  light  laugh,  and  the  lighter  jest,  were  freely  inter- 
changed, and  bets  were  offered  as  to  who  should  cut  the 
first  razor  strap  from  the  back  of  Santa  Anna.  The 
musicians  caught  the  infection,  and  that  army  of  daring 
patriots,  whose  friends  and  relatives  had  been  butchered  by 
the  hundred — whose  houses  had  been  burned  down — whose 
wives  and  children  were  homeless,  and  whose  own  destruc- 


BERNARD     LILE.  -   137 

tion,  to  all  human  calculations,  was  imminent  add  certain, 
moved  to  battle  to  the  soft  melody  of 

"  Will  you  come  to  the  bower?" 

Sherman  began  the  fight  on  the  left.  Pouring  in  one 
deadly  volley,  he  shouted  "  Charge !  and  remember  the 
Alamo.  '4  The  wild  cry  ran  along  his  line,  and  was  caught 
up  and  prolonged  to  the  extreme  right  of  the  Texan  army. 
It  was  not  a  charge,  but  a  rush,  or  as  one  historian  has 
called  it,  "  a  universal  assault.  The  Mexican  lines  swayed 
and  bent  before  the  hurricane  of  steel.  With  terrible 
strength  it  tore  through  them,  drowning  prayer  and  shriek, 
and  dying  groan  alike,  in  its  awful  roar.  In  fifteen  minutes 
the  field  of  San  Jacinto  was  a  vast  slaughter  pen  in  whose 
crimson  mire  lay  the  bodies  of  six  hundred  of  the  tools  of 
tyranny,  while  far  away  over  the  wide  prairie,  north  and 
south,  east  and  west,  rang  the  glad  shouts  of  the  victors ; 
and  old  men,  women  and  children — the  homeless  and  the 
destitute,  caught  the  echoes  and  answered,  WE  ARE 
FREE! 

When  the  rout  of  the  enemy  was  complete,  and  it  was 
certain  they  could  not  again  be  rallied,  Lile  desisted  from 
the  pursuit,  and  walked  slowly  back  over  the  battle-field. 
The  first  body  that  attracted  his  attention  was  that  of 
General  Castrillon.  He  had  used  every  effort  to  prevent 
the  flight  of  his  men,  and  when  that  failed,  deliberately 
folded  his  arms — sullenly  refused  to  ask  for  quarter,  and 
met  his  fate  without  a  tremor.  Three  rifle  balls  had  passed 
through  him,  but  the  dark  frown  was  still  upon  his  brow, 
and  the  face,  even  in  death,  was  firm  and  unquailing. 

"This  at  least,"  muttered  Lile,  "was  a  man.  He  asked 
not  for  the  mercy  he  had  never  shown,  and  redeemed,  in 
dying,  the  cruelties  that  had  stained  his  living  career." 

12* 


138  BEENARD     LILE. 

Passing  on,  he  observed  that  most  of  the  Mexicans  were 
lying  on  their  faces.  Not  fifty  of  them  had  taken  their 
wounds  in  front.  He  sat  down  upon  a  block  of  wood  in 
the  heart  of  what  had  been  the  Mexican  camp.  Silence 
brooded  over  the  spot.  The  victors  and  the  vanquished, 
mixed  in  a  headlong  race,  had  rushed  on.  He  was  alone 
among  the  dead.  Darkly  yet  distinctly  the  stupendous 
results  of  that  day's  victory  rose  up  before  him.  A  blow 
had  been  struck  at  the  foundation  of  every  throne  on  the 
American  continent.  Along  the  pathway  of  the  future  he 
tracked  the  giant  march  of  freedom.  Well  he  knew,  when 
once  begun,  that  onward  march  knows  no  retreat.  With 
a  prophet's  eye,  he  saw  the  shackles  of  the  slave  shivered 
from  his  limbs,  while  from  province  to  province — through 
storm  and  tempest — through  blood  and  tears — the  spirit 
of  Liberty  held  its  resistless  way ;  striking  the  pampered 
priest  and  the  lordly  tyrant  together  to  the  dust — evoking 
from  the  ruins  of  the  gorgeous  cathedral  a  purer  and  a 
holier  religion,  and  proclaiming  from  the  rent  fragments  of 
the  stately  palace,  that  the  law  has  no  superior — that  all 
alike  must  bend  to  its  mandates,  and  all  alike  are  entitled 
to  its  blessings. 


BERNARD     LILE.  139 


CHAPTER    IX. 

"  High  up  in  heaven  one  lovely  star 

Pours  in  upon  my  soul  its  light : 
As,  nested  from  the  world  afar, 

A  dove,  with  eyes  clear,  fond,  and  bright, 

Oazes  with  earnest,  mute  delight 
Upon  its  young,  that  all  its  life  a  treasure  are. 

TWENTY  years  ago  the  island  of  Galveston  was  a  mere 
sand  bank.  Four  or  five  fishermen's  huts  dotted  the  beach, 
and  a  few  scattered  dwellings  of  not  much  greater  preten- 
sion, marked  the  site  of  the  present  city.  Some  distance 
down  the  island  three  trees  rose  in  a  cluster, — the  only 
green  things  that  grew  upon  the  barren  waste,  except  along 
wiry  grass  with  which  it  was  partially  covered.  Near  the 
entrance  of  the  harbor  were  the  remains  of  a  rude  fortifi- 
cation, built  by  Lafitte,  when  his  piratical  flag  waved  over 
the  waters  of  the  Gulf.  At  this  place  a  fisherman  had 
erected  a  temporary  dwelling,  and  here  Bernard  Lile  had 
obtained  permission  to  remain  until  he  could  procure  a 
passage  in  some  one  of  the  light  coasting  vessels  trading  to 
New  Orleans.  A  treaty  of  peace  had  been  concluded  with 
Santa  Anna,  who  was  then  a  prisoner  of  war  at  Yelasco  ; 
and  all  prospect  of  active  operations  being  at  an  end,  Lile 
was  about  to  return  to  the  beautiful  being  he  had  left  for 
the  purpose  of  taking  part  in  the  fierce  struggle  that  had 
begun  so  sadly,  and  terminated  so  gloriously  for  the  cause 
of  Texas.  Three  days  after  the  battle  of  San  Jacinto, 
a  messenger  had  brought  him  a  letter  from  his  wife.  It 
was  an  answer  to  one  he  had  written  from  the  bank  of  the 
Mississippi,  and  ran  as  follows : 


140  BERNARD     LILE. 

"  So,  Bernard,  you  thought  it  useless  to  write,  as  no 
letter  could  reach  you  in  the  wild  land  to  which  you  have 
gone.  I  have  surmounted  greater  obstacles  for  a  less 
reward.  What  if  there  is  no  regular  post  ?  Here,  as  else- 
where, there  are  men  who  will  do  anything  for  money,  and 
what  sum  could  I  deem  extravagant  that  secured  communion 
with  you.  There  is  a  wild  bliss  in  every  thought  that 
turns  towards  you,  and  when  my  hand  has  traced  the  letters 
that  form  your  name,  I  can  gaze'  for  hours  on  the  characters, 
finding  in  every  one  a  beauty  and  a  glory  it  is  impossible 
for  it  to  wear  in  any  other  connection.  To  pour  out  my 
full  soul — to  tell  you  all  I  have  seen  or  felt,  enjoyed  or 
suffered,  this  is,  indeed,  a  privilege  denied  to  written  inter- 
course, because  all  written  words  are  weak  and  powerless 
to  express  the  throbbings  of  a  heart  where  love  has  made 
its  home.  Still  the  very  act  of  writing  has  its  rapture. 
The  knowledge  that  your  hand  will  hold  the  paper — that 
your  eye  will  run  over  the  lines — that  you  will  think  of  me 
more  often  after  its  perusal,  is  a  joy  of  which  nothing  can 
deprive  me,  and  which  nothing  in  the  wide  world  but  your 
presence  could  give.  It  is  well  I  believe  not  in  the  faith 
your  fathers  taught.  It  is  well  I  grew  up  in  a  land  where 
it  is  not  deemed  sin  for  a  woman  to  worship  her  husband. 
Your  Allah  may  demand  of  the  Christian  wife  divided 
devotion  on  earth,  and  a  sole  dominion  hereafter.  Mine 
asserts  no  such  claim  ;  nor  would  it  be  accorded  if  he  did. 
In  this  bosom  there  is  no  room  for  another  passion.  Call 
it  love,  devotion,  worship,  idolatry,  what  you  will ;  all,  all 
is  yours,  and  yours  I  would  proclaim  it  on  the  arch  of 
Al-Sirat  if  I  knew  the  words  would  plunge  me  into  the 
burning  gulf  below.  But  not  so  is  it  written  in  the  Koran. 
In  the  third  of  heaven  set  apart  for  the  faithful  of  our  sex, 
and  presided  over  by  the  mother  of  the  prophet,  its  highest 
honors  and  its  sweetest  enjoyments  are  the  rewards  of  those 


BERNARD     LILE  141 

who  have  loved  most  intensely  below.  Think,  Bernard, 
what  bliss  will  be  mine  ;  when  centuries  hence  that  haven 
shall  at  last  be  reached. 

"  Do  you  remember  when  we  sat  down  at  the  feet  of  an 
old  man  beneath  the  sky  of  Syria,  and  drank  in  the  lore  he 
had  gathered  through  many,  and  many  a  year  of  fasting 
and  of  vigil  ?  Do  you  remember  how  he  traced  out,  step 
by  step — from  star  to  star — through  the  countless  thousands 
that  thronged  the  blue  space  above  us,  the  soul's  illimitable 
career  ?  Beginning  on  this  lower  orb  where  disease  and  death, 
poverty  and  crime,  disappointed  hopes  and  blighted  aspi- 
rations, the  vexing  littleness,  and  the  sterner  torture  beset 
each  hour  of  the  cloudy  journey,  and  travelling  on  through 
brighter  spheres,  losing  at  each  progressive  step  some  care, 
some  pain,  some  grief  that  had  afflicted  us  before, — gaining 
from  each  new  capacities  for  enjoyment,  new  love  of  the 
beautiful  and  the  good — gathering  a  host  of  feelings  higher, 
purer,  holier — listening  to  melodies  that  grow  softer,  more 
enchanting,  and  more  delicious  as  we  advance,  until  all 
we  now  know  of  bliss  is  lost,  and  all  we  can  conceive  of 
beatitude  is  forgotten,  amid  the  inexpressible  delights  of 
the  reality.  Do  you  remember  he  foretold  such  a  destiny 
for  us,  and  when  he  led  us  through  worlds  on  worlds  to 
the  seventh  heaven,  I  asked :  '  And  then,  what  then  ? 
Shall  I  be  separated  from  Bernard,  there  ?'  And  the 
old  man  drew  his  mantle  about  his  face,  and  answered  not ; 
and  you  folded  me  to  your  bosom  with  a  sad  smile,  and 
said,  'love  me  while  vou  can,  Zerah!  the  future  is  a  dark 
riddle,  that  the  sage  may  read  imperfectly — you  and  I  not 
at  all.' 

"  Well,  Bernard,  that  question  revealed  a  love  that  most 
men  would  have  shrunk  from  as  fearfully  as  the  sting  of 
the  asp ;  but  you  drew  the  passionate  thing  who  uttered  it 


i 

142  BERNARD     LILE. 

nearer  to  your  heart,  and  from  that  hour  I  knew  that  Eblis 
had  no  power  to  tear  us  asunder. 

"  .My  pen  has  run  back  into  the  past,  and  I  am  forgetting 
there  are  many  things  in  the  present  you  are  desirous  to 
know.  That  the  first  days  of  your  departure  were  dreary 
enough  I  need  not  say.  Unhappily  for  himself,  your  young 
friend,  Robert  Wilson,  thought  it  his  duty  to  pay  me  many 
attentions.  Day  by  day  I  watched  the  growth  of  a  passion 
I  knew  not  how  to  check,  and  whose  existence,  to  do  him 
justice,  I  believe  he  did  not  himself  suspect.  But  it  is  a 
knowledge  that  cannot  long  be  hidden,  and  when  it  came 
to  him  he  acted  as  became  the  man  who  called  you  bene- 
factor. If  he  had  breathed  one  word  of  passion  in  my  ear 
— if  he  had  avowed  the  feelings  I  knew  were  burning  and 
struggling  in  his  bosom,  and  sought  to  win  even  pity  or 
compassion  in  return,  I  would  have  scorned  and  loathed 
him  more  than  the  ugliest  toad  that  defiles  the  earth.  Not 
so  did  he  act.  Promptly,  almost  rudely,  he  tore  himself 
away,  vainly  fancying  that  he  carried  his  secret  with  him, 
and  no  doubt,  supposing  me  indignant  at  the  seemingly 
cold  and  formal  announcement  of  his  departure,  through 
Monsieur  Evadne.  Then  I  pitied  him.  Then,  if  it  could 
have  relieved  a  single  pang  he  suffered,  I  would  have  sent 
for  him  and  soothed  him  with  words  of  affection  and  re- 
gard, but  I  knew  this  would  be  idle,  or  rather  it  would 
be  adding  torture  to  torture ;  and  so  I  let  him  go,  trusting 
to  time  to  soften  the  blow,  and  hoping  that  the  active 
duties  of  a  profession  which  leaves  1'ttle  time  for  melan- 
choly thought,  would  blot  out  the  memory  of  the  wild  and 
hopeless  dream  he  had  unconsciously  nourished.  If  ever 
the  day  comes  when  we  can  meet  without  pain  on  his  part, 
I  will  gladly  tell  him  how  much  I  honor  the  upright  man- 
liness he  has  exhibited — how  much  I  feel  for  the  misery  he 
has  endured.  That  day  may  be  afar  off,  and  I  fear  me  it 


BERNARD     LILE.  143 

•^ 

is ;  but  let  us  hope  that  though  the  flower  may  be  struck 

from  the  stem,  the  plant  may  continue  to  grow  and  flourish 
not  the  less  vigorous  and  useful  after  its  sweetness  is  gone 
for  ever.  In  the  meantime,  I  hare  directed  Monsieur 
Evadne,  to  keep  an  eye  on  his  every  movement,  and  see 
that  he  wants  for  nothing  money  can  buy.  I  had  hoped 
also  to  procure  him  promotion  to  a  higher  rank,  but  our 
good  friend  tells  me  neither  money  nor  influence  avail  any 
thing,  for  such  a  purpose,  under  this  singular  government 
of  yours,  and  that  he  must  carve  his  way  with  his  own  right 
hand  from  grade  to  grade.  All,  therefore,  has  been  done 
I  could  do ;  the  rest  remains  with  you. 

"A  few  days  after  Mr.  Wilson's  departure,  I  was  sur- 
prised by  a  visit  from  a  lady,  who,  I  was  told,  occupied 
the  highest  rank  in  New  York  society.  She  is  certainly 
beautiful.  Her  voice  is  low  and  sweet,  and  her  manners 
are  indicative  of  a  head  strong  enough  to  sustain  the  con- 
sciousness of  many  surpassing  attractions.  I  have  been 
forced  to  see  her  often,  and  would  willingly  be  rid  of  her, 
for  I  like  her  not,  and  yet  find  it  difficult  to  discover  what 
it  is  that  repels  me.  You  will  naturally  attribute  it  to  the 
different  customs  and  observances  of  our  respective  creeds. 
I  think  not.  Much  as  I  detest  the  constant  exposure  of 
female  charms  permitted,  if  not  enjoined,  in  your  society, 
I  have  learned  how  to  make  allowances  for  indelicacies 
which  must  result  from  such  a  course  of  training,  and  which 
from  the  very  unconsciousness  that  they  are  indelicacies,  in 
point  of  fact,  cease  to  be  so  with  those  who  are  habituated 
to  them.  The  Indian  or  the  African  maid,  who  daily  asso- 
ciates with  the  opposite  sex  in  a  state  but  little  removed 
from  nudity,  is  not  necessarily  immodest,  but  it  cannot  be 
denied,  that  her  sensibilities  are  much  less  acute,  and  her 
liability  to  error  much  greater  from  the  custom.  Your 
habits  of  promiscuous  association  are  not  so  bad,  and  while 


144  BERNARD     LILE. 

I  see  in  them  much  that  is  repugnant  to  my  taste,  I  am 
sure  I  have  so  far  got  the  better  of  prejudice  as  not  to 
judge  them  by  the  standard  they  would  infallibly  be  sub- 
jected to  in  Mahometan  lands.  It  is  not  that  Mrs.  Winter 
goes  unveiled.  It  is  no>  that  her  ordinary  dress  exposes 
more  of  her  person  than  I  think  modest  or  becoming — it 
is  not  that  she  is  constantly  intimating  her  wishes  that  I 
should"  mingle  in  scenes  I  detest,  or  visit  places  whose 
publicity  makes  me  shudder,  that  has  created  an  aversion 
not  easy  to  be  concealed.  You  remember  the  little  serpent 
that  twines  among  the  flowers  of  Persia,  and  when  the 
bulbul  comes  to  court  the  rose,  hushes  its  song  is  death. 
Soft  and  beautiful  and  seemingly  gentle  and  harmless,  you 
might  take  it  for  the  plaything  of  a  child,  and  yet  a  giant's 
strength  would  be  instantly  withered  by  its  venom.  Even 
so  does  this  woman  seem  to  me.  Lovely  as  she  is — robed 
with  graces  that  would  adorn  a  sultan's  throne — always 
affable  in  manner — always  kind  in  words,  there  is  still 
something  to  recall  the  serpent  among  the  flowers.  There 
is  a  spark  in  her  bosom  that  has  never  yet  been  awakened. 
When  it  is  struck,  it  will  be  deadly,  and  woe  to  him  on 
whom  her  love  or  hatred  lights.  She  asks  often  of  you, 
and  when  you  will  return.  I  cannot  tell  her,  for  I  do  not 
know,  and  I  would  not  tell  her  if  I  could.  I  cannot  dwell 
upon  your  meeting  with  her  without  a  feeling  of  uneasiness 
as  far  removed  from  jealousy  as  midnoon  from  midnight, 
but  as  full  of  agony  as  the  darkest  jealousy  could  inflict. 

"  Let  me  turn  to  a  dearer  theme.  Rumors  of  coming 
battle  daily  reach  us.  I  do  not  tell  you  to  shun  the  fore- 
most rank,  for  well  I  know  that  post  is  yours  by  right,  as 
it  will  be  by  choice.  Nor  do  I  tell  you  to  win  new  laurels 
to  swell  the  pride  of  a  woman  already  too  vain  of  her  lord 
to  believe  that  fame  has  other  gifts  to  bestow ;  and  who 
loves  him  too  much  to  doubt  that  others  hold  the  same 


BERNARD     LILE.  145 

opinion.  I  pretend  not  to  judge  when  or  where  the  sword 
should  be  sheathed.  The  sense  of  duty  that  led  you  to  the 
field  must  be  your  only  guide.  But  if  you  cannot  come  to 
me  soon,  let  me  come  to  you.  There  is  a  terrible  beauty 
in  watching  a  single  arm  drive  back  a  quailing  host,' and 
unwomanly  as  the  wish  is,  I  long  once  more  to  see  you 
clear  a  pathway  through  the  ranks  of  war.  Not  Iqjig  since 
I  caught  myself  wishing  I  were  a  man  that  I  might  share 
this  peril  with  you,  as  I  had  shared  those  of  other  climes  : 
but  in  a  moment  came  the  thought  that  if  I  were  I  could 
not  be  the  wife  of  Bernard-  Lile,  and  the  foolish  whim  fled 
away  rebuked. 

"  Send  back  my  messenger  as  soon  as  may  be,  with  such 
tidings  as  you  have  to  convey  to  her  who  is  waiting 
to  receive  them,  neither  murmuring  nor  repining,  nor 
gloomy,  nor  impatient,  but  loving  and  dutiful  as  ever." 

To  this  letter  he  had  despatched  an  answer  announcing  the 
probable  close  of  the  war— the  capture  of  Santa  Anna, 
and  his  own  immediate  return.  Procuring  a  sail -boat  on 
the  head  of  the  bay,  in  company  with  Simpson,  he  landed 
on  Galveston  island,  for  the  purpose  of  taking  passage  to 
the  United  States.  In  the  hut  of  the  fisherman  he  again 
drew  the  letter  from  his  bosom,  and  re-read  the  passages 
which  referred  to  Robert  Wilson,  with  absorbing  interest. 

"  Poor  boy,"  he  muttered,  "  must  I  and  mine  bring  blight 
and  sorrow  upon  all  who  bear  your  name  ?  Sorrow  when 
I  meant  kindness.  Decay  when  I  meant  to  infuse  new  life 
into  a  vigorous  shoot.  There  is  fate  in  this.  The  shadow 
is  over  my  pathway  yet.  The  fearful  race  is  not  so  nearly 
run  as  I  had  begun  to  hope.  God  grant  that  I  may  not, 
as  of  old  time,  rebel  at  the  hand  of  the  chastener,  and  re- 
lapse into  the  sullen  calm  of  impenitent  despair." 

The  opportunity  he  had  waited  for  at  length  offered. 
13 


14:6  BEENAKD     LILE. 

The  light  boat  of  the  fisherman  was  ready  to  convey  him 
to  the  vessel.  Walking  along  the  beach  with  Simpson  he 
conferred  with  that  worthy  upon  his  future  plans. 

"  You  will  not  go  with  me,  Tom  ?" 

"  No,  captain.  If  I  did  not  suffocate  in  the  thick  air  of 
the  towns,  or  sicken  and  die  right  out  from  inaction,  I 
should  be  eternally  fretted  and  annoyed  by  finding  myself 
an  object  of  curiosity  and  dread  to  all  the  children  and 
little  niggers  we  met.  Besides,  what  the  devil  could  I  do 
in  the  settlements  ?  I  should  be  as  much  out  of  place  as  a 
bear  at  a  bran-dance,  and  about  as  welcome." 

"  Go  back  to  books  and  study,  Tom.  You  have  higher 
capacities  than  you  deem,  and  are  not  yet  too  old  to  serve 
mankind  in  the  closet,  as  you  have  done  in  the  field. " 

"  It  won't  do,  captain.  I  had  some  such  dreams  in  my 
youth ;  but  that  was  before  I  had  ever  felt  the  wild  freedom 
of  the  woods.  It  is  all  forgotten  now.  I  must  remain 
upon  the  border — at  least  until  my  eyes  grow  dim,  and 
these  strong  limbs  stiffen  with  age.  If  you  want  me  at 
any  time  seek  me  in  the  west.  I  shall  be  somewhere  along 
the  G-audaloupe  or  the  San  Antonio,  unless  the  Mexicans 
or  Camanches  contrive  to  send  me  on  a  journey  to  the 
happy  hunting-grounds.  There  will  be  wild  work  there 
for  long  years  to  come,  and  whenever  you  hear  of  a  daring 
deed  done,  be  certain  that  Tom  Simpson  has  neither  for- 
gotten the  wounded  boys  of  the  Mission  Church,  nor  the 
cowardly  murder  of  Goliad." 

"  And  so  you  think  this  peace  will  not  last  ?" 

"  Last !  It  will  never  begin.  As  soon  as  Santa  Anna 
is  safe  he  will  laugh  at  the  treaty.  Filisola  will  halt  where 
he  is,  and  the  work  must  be  began  afresh." 

"  In  that  event  you  may  count  upon  my  speedy  return. 
In  the  meantime  can  I  do  anything  for  you  in  the  States  ?" 

"Nothing,  but  to  write  to   the  old  man,  and  the  old 


BERNARD     LILE.  147 

woman  that  you  left  me  well,  and  contented  :  and  that  I 
mean  to  come  and  see  them  before  they  die." 

"  That  shall  be  attended  to.  And  now  good-bye.  Our 
first  meeting  gave  little  promise  of  future  friendship  :  but 
we  have  frankly  periled  life  together  since  ;  and  I  say  to 
you  as  I  shall  say  to  your  dearest  relatives,  that  a  bolder, 
truer  heart,  or  a  stronger  arm  never  served  his  country  or 
his  friend  at  need." 

"  Thank  you.  Thank  you ;  not  so  much  for  myself,  but 
it  will  make  the  old  man  feel  proud  of  his  son,  and  I  have 
caused  him  trouble  enough  to  make  me  wish  to  bring  him 
some  comfort  in  his  old  age." 

Lile  stepped  into  the  boat.  The  hunter  watched  it,  as  it 
rose  and  fell  with  the  heaving  waves,  until  it  neared  the 
vessel's  side. 

"  There  goes  a  man,"  he  said,  wiping  a  tear  from  his 
sunburned  cheek,  "  whom  a  pet  lamb  might  love,  but  whom 
a  run  mad  tiger  might  fear  to  meet.  We  shall  see  each 
other  again  I  know.  He's  not  made  for  towns,  any  more 
than  I  am." 

Thus,  upon  the  lonely  beach,  the  two  friends  parted. 
The  one  to  tread  the  dusty  thoroughfares  of  civilized  life 
— the  other  to  mingle  in  the  wild  excitements  of  a  border 
warfare. 

Arrived  at  New  Orleans,  Lile  soon  found  himself  engaged 
in  consultations  with  agents  of  the  Texan  government,  who 
were  devising  means  to  start  the  infant  republic  prosper- 
ously upon  its  new  career.  As  a  naval  force  was  one  of 
the  first  and  most  important  requisites,  he  engaged  to  man 
and  arm  a  vessel  at  his  own  expence,  stipulating  only  that 
he  should  himself  have  the  selection  of  the  officers  and 
crew.  This  done  he  procured  a  passport  for  Cuba,  and  in 
a  few  days  was  again  upon  the  blue  waters  of  the  gulf. 
The  wind  was  blowing  fiercely,  and  the  angry  waves  dashed 


148  BERNARD     LILE. 

high  up  against  the  walls  of  the  Moro  Castle,  as  the  vessel 
entered  the  harbor  of  Havana.  Lile  was  standing  upon 
the  deck  with  a  fellow  passenger,  (whom  he  had  learned 
was  an  English  engineer,)  examining  the  celebrated  fortress 
with  as  much  attention  as  the  surging  billows  would  allow. 

"  Your  republic,"  said  the  Englishman,  "  is  reported  to 
have  cast  a  longing  eye  on  the  queen  of  the  Antilles.  That 
castle  looks  like  an  ugly  obstacle  in  the  way." 

"  I  do  not  know  what  my  countrymen  may  desire,"  an- 
swered Lile,  "  but  if  they  should  resolve  to  invade  Cuba, 
that  castle  will  prove  a  weak  defence. " 

"  Weak  !  You  have  nothing  in  your  republic  that 
approaches  it." 

"  Perhaps  not.  You  doubtless  remember  the  story  of 
the  Spartan,  who,  when  asked, '  where  are  your  city's  walls  ?' 
promptly  answered,  '  the  bosoms  of  her  sons. '  We  build 
no  such  fortifications.  We  take  them." 

"  When  you  take  this  one  the  day  of  miracles  will  have 
arrived." 

"  I  have  witnessed  a  greater  miracle  within  a  few  months 
past.  I  have  seen  three  hundred  volunteers,  without  a  siege 
train  or  any  of  the  aids  of  science,  take  a  stone  fortress 
garrisoned  by  fifteen  hundred  just  such  soldiers  as  yonder 
oastle  holds ;  and  if  ever  the  American  Union  sends  a  hos- 
tile force  against  this  island,  the  Moro  battlements  will  not 
delay  its  conquest  for  a  single  week." 

"You  speak  sangninely,  sir,  for  one  whose  theory  is 
opposed  by  all  the  rules  of  scientific  war.  We,  in  Europe, 
do  not  entertain  such  extravagant  opinions  of  the  prowess 
of  your  countrymen." 

"  And  yet  a  handful  of  raw  recruits,  drawn  hastily  from 
the  plough,  and  the  workshop,  tore  the  laurels  gathered  in 
the  peninsula,  from  the  brow  of  Packenham,  and  drove  his 
veterans  in  disgrace  and  terror  to  their  ships." 


BERNARD     LILE.  149 

* 
The  captain  of  the  ship  now  interposed,  and  directed  the 

conversation  to  other  topics. 

It  was  night — the  soft  night  of  Cuba.  The  moon  was 
riding  in  the  heavens  clear,  bright,  and  brilliant.  Its  rays 
appeared  to  rest  with  fond  delight  upon  the  lofty  spire,  and 
the  gilded  cupola,  while  it  was  easy  to  fancy  them  shrinking 
with  disgust  from  the  dark,  narrow,  and  filthy  streets  of 
the  island  metropolis.  From  the  plaza,  in  front  of  the 
palace  of  the  governor-general,  a  band  of  music  sent  forth 
its  delicious  strains.  Hurrying  volantes  filled  the  streets, 
and  crowds  of  pedestrians  thronged  the  little  footways,  all 
flowing  towards  the  place  of  nightly  recreation. 

The  luxury  of  a  moonlight  promenade  in  that  scorching 
clime,  added  to  the  Spaniard's  passionate  fondness  for  music, 
never  fails  to  draw  together  on  such  occasions  "  the  beauty 
and  the  chivalry  "  of  Havana.  But  distrust  and  suspicion 
are  for  ever  hanging  like  a  dark  cloud  above  the  scene. 
Here  every  tone  of  the  voice,  and  every  gesture  of  the  hand 
is  watched  and  noted.  Even  the  laugh  of  the  young  Seno- 
rita  is  robbed  of  its  mirth,  for  she  knows  not  but4he  spies 
of  the  despot  may  report  it  as  treason.  Love,  which  else- 
where scorns  the  shackle  and  the  bolt,  finds  himself  fluttering 
with  crippled  wing,  beneath  a  sky  whose  very  air  might  fill 
an  Iceland  heart  with  fire.  The  maiden  listens  to  the  soft 
tale  she  loves  to  hear — the  orange  groves  are  blooming 
about  her — bowers  which  the  wild  flower  and  the  evergreen 
have  united  to  form,  are  gently  stirring  in  the  balmy  breeze 
— peace  is  in  the  heaven  above,  and  sweetness  in  the  earth 
below,  but  a  horrid  doubt  comes  to  drive  away  the  trem- 
bling ecstacy,  and  blast  the  fragrant  beauty  of  the  hour. 
As  she  listens  an  inward  monitor  whispers  that  the  pleading 
tongue,  whose  accents  had  almost  won  her  beating  heart, 
is  that  of  a  paid  informer — that  the  jealous  suspicions  of 
tyranny  have  rested  on  a  loved  father,  or  a  darling  brother, 

13* 


150  BEKNARD     LILE. 

and  that  he  who  is  kneeling  at  her  feet  is  hired  to  win 
her  love,  in  order  to  betray  more  easily  the  father,  or  the 
brother  to  the  dungeon  or  the  garote.  Yet  she  dares  not 
spurn  him.  She  must  listen  and  pretend  to  believe.  From 
a  hypocrite  she  becomes  in  turn  a  betrayer;  and  thus 
through  the  whole  net  work  of  society  the  deadly  venom  is 
diffused. 

Lile  lingered  not  among  the  promenaders,  but  threaded 
his  way  to  the  billiard  saloon  at  Delmonico's.  Glancing 
around  the  room,  his  eye  rested  on  a  bronzed  and  weather 
beaten  seaman,  who  was  watching  the  game  with  evi- 
dent interest.  Walking  up  to  this  individual,  he  quietly 
proposed  to  try  his  skill  at  an  unoccupied  table.  The 
seaman  looked  up — a  flash  of  recognition  illuminated  his 
countenance — it  disappeared  as  quick  as  it  came,  and  he 
answered, — 

"  I'm  sorry  I  can't  amuse  you.  You  see  I'm  a  cripple ;" 
and  he  pointed  to  his  right  arm  resting  in  a  sling. 

Lile  took  a  seat  on  one  of  the  cushioned  benches,  and 
continue/!  to  watch  the  game  for  some  minutes  in  silence. 
He  then  rose  and  walked  into  the  refreshment  room. 
Seating  himself  at  one  of  the  little  circular  tables  he 
lighted  a  cigaritta,  and  called  for  a  glass  of  iced  lemonade. 
While  thus  occupied,  the  seaman  also  entered.  Ordering 
some  cigars,  as  soon  as  the  servant  was  out  of  hearing,  he 
whispered,  "Follow  me  when  I  go  out."  The  cigars  after 
some  chafering  were  paid  for,  and  the  seaman  sauntered 
towards  the  street  entrance.  Lile  also  discharged  his  bill, 
and  walked  slowly  to  the  door.  Keeping  some  distance 
apart,  but  constantly  in  view,  they  proceeded  leisurely 
along  the  street  leading  to  the  Bishop's  Garden.  After 
awhile  the  houses  grew  thinner.  Scattered  patches  of 
open  ground  allowed  the  moon-beams  to  light  up  the 


BERNARD     LILE.  151 

surrounding  objects.  The  seaman  now  halted  until  his 
companion  approached. 

"  We  can  walk  on  together  now ;  but  keep  in  the  mid- 
dle of  the  street.  It  is  never  safe  to  go  near  a  dark  wall 
in  Havana." 

"  I  hardly  hoped  to  have  met  you,  Velasquez,"  said  Ber- 
nard Lile,  "though  I  came  here  for  the  purpose." 

"  Hush  1"  responded  the  person  thus  addressed ;  "  call 
no  names  until  we  are  safely  housed.  You  might  as  well 
talk  in  the  ear  of  Dionysius  as  among  Cuban  winds." 

They  soon  reached  a  large  and  seemingly  deserted  man- 
sion, surrounded  by  an  iron  railing.  The  gate  was 
unlocked  by  Velasquez,  as  we  shall  now  call  him,  who 
stopped  to  secure  it  again  while  Lile  walked  on  towards 
the  house.  A  large  blood-hound  was  sleeping  on  a  mat 
before  the  door ;  rushing  towards  the  intruder  with  a  fierce 
growl,  he  sprang  directly  at  his  face.  Sudden  and  fero- 
cious as  the  assault  was,  Lile  was  neither  surprised  nor 
thrown  off  his  guard.  Stepping  a  little  back,  he  caught 
the  infuriated  brute  by  the  throat — held  him  for  a  moment 
in  his  deadly  gripe,  and  then  dashed  him  to  the  ground 
with  a  violence  that  forced  the  blood  from  mouth,  eye,  and 
nostrils. 

"Damnation,"  exclaimed  Velasquez,  hurrying  up,  "has 
the  infernal  brute  torn  you  badly  ?" 

"Not  at  all,"  was  the  calm  reply;  "he  is  himself  the 
only  sufferer." 

"  I  hope  you  have  not  killed  him.  He  is  worth  his 
weight  in  gold,  and  it  was  all  from  my  d — n — d  careless- 
ness in  letting  you  go  on  without  thinking  of  the  dog." 

"  No ;  that  gasp  is  not  the  gasp  of  death.  Pour  a  little 
brandy  and  water  in  his  mouth — the  fresh  air  will  do  the 
rest." 


152  BERNARD     LILE. 

A  sharp  ring  brought  an  ill-looking  servant  to  the  door. 
The  dog  was  given  into  his  charge,  and  Lile  entered  the 
house  with  his  host.  Entering  a  room  dimly  lighted  by  a 
single  lamp,  Velasquez  invited  his  guest  to  be  seated,  and 
unlocking  a  crypt  in  the  wall  of  the  room,  drew  forth  a 
bottle  and  drinking  glasses. 

"Now, "he  said,  as  he  arranged  them  on  a  table,  "we 
can  talk  freely;  and  here  is  something  better  than  the 
wishy-washy  stuff  at  Delmonico's." 

Lile  imitated  his  example,  and  helped  himself  liberally 
to  the  brandy  and  water. 

"It  is  now  more  than  twenty  years,"  he  said,  turning 
the  glass  on  the  table  slowly  with  his  fingers  as  he  spoke, 
"since  I  took  passage  on  the  good  ship  Nantucket,  for 
Cadiz." 

"I  haven't  overhauled  the  log-book  lately,"  was  the 
reply;  "but  I  guess  your  reckoning  is  about  right." 

"  You  bore  another  name  at  that  day,  Juan  Velasquez, 
and  followed  nobler  pursuits  than  at  present." 

"According  to  my  recollection,  Bernard  Lile, "was  the 
serious  but  not  angry  reply,  "both  of  us  sailed  under 
different  colors  from  those  we  now  carry  at  the  mast- 
head." 

"  True  I  but  have  you  no  wish  to  go  back  to  the  old  home 
we  loved  so  well — to  wander  by  the  little  stream  whose 
clear,  pure  waters  seemed  as  if  they  had  trickled  from 
Paradise — to  walk  through  the  old  grave-yard,  and  read 
upon  the  marble  tomb-stones,  where,  and  when  the  vene- 
rated fathers  of  our  native  village  had  passed  away — to 
learn  what  young  shoots  had  sprung  into  existence,  and 
sickened  and  died  before  the  mildew  of  vice  had  spread 
along  their  leaves — to  stand  where  the  humble  school- 
house  was  hid  among  the  clustering  trees — to  listen  once 
more  to  the  song  of  the  nightingale,  in  the  shady  groves 


BERNARD     LILE.  153 

where  our  young  loves  were  told,  in  that  early  time  when 
the  heart  mistakes  admiration  of  the  beautiful  for  love,  and 
knows  not  the  stormy  nature  of  the  passion  which  rends 
the  bosom  of  the  man.  Have  no  such  dreams  visited  your 
midnight  pillow,  Juan  Yelasquez,  and  made  your  ocean 
couch  more  restless  than  the  billows  you  rode  ?" 

"  Often,  Bernard,  often.  But  why  ask  !  Why  torture 
me  or  yourself,  by  recalling  a  happiness  we  can  never  know. 
A  dark  red  stream  is  flowing  between  you  and  your  native 
land.  Wild  deeds  ashore  and  afloat  have  thickened  around 
my  path,  and  a  halter  would  be  -the  most  probable  welcome 
of  the  wanderer  home. " 

"  Not  so.  You  would  never  be  recognized.  Besides, 
although  a  slaver,  your  trade  has  been  confined  to  the 
Spanish  coast,  where  it  is  not  piracy." 

"  So  says  my  log-book ;  but  there  are  those  whose 
notions  of  geography  might  vary  from  it." 

"  I  have  been  home,  and  no  one  knew  me.  Nay,  more, 
if  I  had  proclaimed  my  name  and  lineage,  they  would  have 
taken  me  for  a  lunatic." 

"  You !"  exclaimed  the  sailor,  starting  suddenly  to  his 
feet.  "  You  have  stood  upon  the  soil  of  New  Hampshire  1 
You  have  listened  to  the  pealing  organ  in  the  old  stone 
church  !  You  have  knelt  among  the  moss-covered  graves  ! 
Yon  have  drank  from  the  little  brook  that  goes  dancing  to 
the  Merrimac !  You  have  done  this,  while  I  have  been 
sweltering  in  this  accursed  Isle  of  slaves  and  pirates! 
Good  God  1  the  thought  will  drive  sleep  from  my  eyelids 
for  a  month  to  come." 

"  Sit  down,  and  let  us  talk  calmly.  Try  a  little  more  of 
this  brandy  and  water.  By  the  time  another  glass  is 
finished,  you  -will  be  in  a  better  state  to  listen  to  what  I 
have  to  tell." 

Briefly,  but  clearly,  Lile  related  all  that  had  befallen 


154  BERNARD     LILE. 

him  since  they  had  last  met  three  years  before.  Ending 
with  a  glowing  picture  of  the  infant  republic  in  whose 
revolutionary  struggle  he  had  fought  so  gallantly  and  so 
successfully.  When  he  had  concluded,  his  listener  raised 
his  head  from  the  hand  whereon  it  leaned,  and  said 
thoughtfully, 

"  This  accounts  for  the  strange  stories  I  have  heard,  of 
a  wonderful  man  who  baffled  armies  with  his  single  strength, 
and  glided  unseen  through  waking  hosts,  destroying  as  he 
went.  I  thought  it  some  tale  invented  by  the  priests  to 
amuse  the  fools,  who  imagine  that  heaven  can  only  be 
reached  over  turnpikes  where  the  holy  fathers  gather  the 
tolls.  I  knew  not  you  had  left  Palestine  to  give  lessons 
on  American  prowess  to  the  half-breed  Spaniards  and 
Indians  of  Mexico." 

He  paused  a  moment — sipped  his  brandy,  and  resumed, 

"  But  to  what  does  this  tend  ?  I  know  you  have  not 
sought  me  for  nothing.  You  would  not  have  come  upon 
such  an  uncertain  errand  without  strong  motives." 

"The  errand  was  not  so  uncertain.  You  might  not 
have  been  upon  the  Island,  but  it  was  certain  that  I  should 
hear  of  you,  and  secure  eventual  communication.  Still 
you  are  so  far  right,  that  I  would  not  have  come  without 
a  strong  motive.  Of  those  who  knew  me  in  boyhood,  not 
one,  save  yourself,  is  living  who  would  recognise  me  now. 
When  I  was  driven  a  blood-stained  outcast  from  my  native 
shores,  it  was  your  ship  that  received  me.  A  hundred  ties 
have  since  been  added,  and  now,  when  I  see,  or  hope  I  see, 
the  dawning  of  a  brighter  morn,  I  have  come  to  point  it 
out,  and  ask  you  to  share  it  with  me.  What  say  you, 
John  Abbott,  to  throwing  the  gyves,  and  fetters,  and 
grates,  and  all  the  other  implements  of  your  accursed 
traffic  into  the  sea ;  and  launching  on  an  honorable  career, 
beneath  an  unstained  flag  ?' 


BERNARD     LILE.  155 

"  What  say  I  ?  What  would  the  parched  traveler  on 
the  desert  of  Zahara  say  to  a  gushing  spring  from  our 
native  hills  ?  Even  so  say  I ;  that  it  would  be  as  welcome, 
and  is — as  unattainable." 

"Listen,  John.  When  a  boy  the  swollen  Merrimac 
closed  over  you ;  but  a  hand  was  stretched  forth  to  save. 
When  wounded,  bleeding,  faint,  in  the  dark  morass,  near 
Sierra  Leone,  a  cutlass  was  raised  to  dispatch  you,  the 
arm  that  held  it  was  severed  from  the  trunk,  and  you  were 
delivered.  When  your  vessel  was  sunk  by  a  man-of-war — 
when  all  you  had  was  gone,  and  you  had  hardly  escaped 
with  life  in  the  canoe  of  a  Kroo-man,  another  vessel  was 
supplied  you — your  broken  fortunes  were  mended,  and  you 
became  the  richer  from  the  disaster.  When  the  deadly 
fever  at  the  mouth  of  the  Senegal  had  turned  your  blood 
to  fire,  care  and  nursing  brought  back  the  pulses  of  health. 
Surely  you  are  in  no  worse  strait  now." 

"  I  remember  it  all ;  and  forget  not  that  I  owe  it  to  you. 
But  this  is  not  a  case  where  your  interference  would  avail 
me.  I  am  a  marked  man.  I  am  known  as  the  most  daring 
slave  trader  between  Africa  and  the  Spanish  colonies. 
Fame  adds,  the  most  bloodthirsty  and  remorseless ;  but  in 
that  fame  lies  as  usual.  Go  where  I  will,  that  brand  will 
cling  to  me.  It  is  only  here,  where  the  traffic  is  legal,  that 
I  can  find  associates.  And  even  if  I  abandoned  it  to- 
morrow, I  must  either  make  my  home  on  this  Island,  or 
become  a  hermit." 

"All  that  has  been  thought  of.  I  have  agreed  to  fit 
out,  at  my  own  expense,  a  ship  for  the  Texan  navy,  stipu- 
lating for  the  selection  of  the  officers.  Take  the  command 
of  her — drop  your  Spanish  name — resume  that  of  your 
boyhood,  and  when  a  few  years  have  rolled  away,  you  can 
return  to  your  own  land,  honored  and  respected,  while  I 
must  continue  to  be  known  only  as  Bernard  Lile." 


156  BERNARD     LILE. 

"  I  will  think  of  it.  My  head  is  strangely  confused  just 
now.  Another  glass  of  brandy  will  do  us  no  harm,  and 
then  we  must  to  bed,  for  the  sun  is  stealing  through  the 
lattice-work,  and  it  will  soon  be  too  hot  for  anything  but 
slumber." 

Lile  had  noticed  that,  soon  after  passing  his  own  gate, 
the  arm  of  Velazquez  was  removed  from  the  sling  in  which 
he  had  carried  it  in  the  streets,  and  a  long  knife,  that  had 
evidently  been  concealed  in  the  folds  .of  the  India  shawl, 
was  returned  to  his  bosom.  He  now  quietly  remarked, 

"  I  thought  you  were  a  cripple. " 

"My  good  friend,"  was  the  response,  "assassinations  in 
this  delightful  climate,  are  about  as  frequent  as  prayer- 
meetings  in  New  England.  In  order,  I  suppose,  to  give 
the  lovers  of  this  agreeable  pastime  as  much  impunity  as 
possible,  the  law  makes  it  highly  penal  for  any  sojourner 
here  to  carry  arms  in  his  own  defence.  Now  I  am  no  sub- 
scriber to  the  theories  of  non-resistance,  which  I  learn  have 
taken  root  in  our  old  country  since  I  left,  but,  at  the  same 
time,  it  does  not  suit  me  to  quarrel  with  the  decrees  of  the 
captain-general.  I  have,  therefore,  adopted  the  little  ruse. 
of  twisting  an  India  shawl  about  my  neck,  and  giving 
out  that  my  right  hand  is  disabled,  when  I  think  it  prudent 
to  have  a  bit  of  bright  steel  in  my  grasp." 

"  One  other  question.  Why  do  you  consider  it  necessary 
to  take  so  many  precautions  in  your  intercourse  with 
others  ? 

"  With  all  others  I  do  not.  But  I  am  known  to  every 
government  spy  in  Havana,  and  every  stranger  who 
approaches  me  is  watched.  I  have  dealings  with  many 
persons  to  whom  a  more  intimate  acquaintance  with  the 
authorities  would  be  disagreeable ;  consequently,  I  re- 
cognise no  one — am  seen  with  no  one,  until  I  know  what 


BERNARD     LILE.  167 

his  business  is,  and  how  far  he  has  reason  to  dread  inves- 
tigation. 

"But  yourself;  have  you  nothing  to  fear?" 
"Nothing  to  fear,  but  a  good  deal  to  pay.  When  I 
return  from  a  successful  cruise  to  Africa,  my  first  care  is 
to  present  the  captain-general  with  a  number  of  slaves — 
my  next  to  distribute  appropriate  presents  of  slaves,  ivory, 
or  gold  dust,  among  his  favorite  officials.  After  that  I 
am  safe." 

"Your  pictures  of  life  in  Cuba  are  gloomy  ones." 
"  They  are  true ;  and  that  is  a  merit  most  pictures  do 
not  possess." 

"With  your  permission,"  he  continued,  "we  will  post- 
pone further  conversation  until  the  evening.  There  is  your 
couch.  You  must  be  content  to  occupy  the  same  apart- 
ment with  me,  for  there  is  no  other  about  the  house  that 
will  be  endurable  two  hours  hence." 

The  sultry  day  of  the  tropics  at  length  wore  away.  The 
sun  went  down  clear,  unclouded,  brilliant  to  the  last — burn- 
ing with  meridian  lustre  on  the  very  edge  of  the  glowing 
heavens.  The  silver  moon  walked  along  the  sky,  robed 
with  a  beauty  unknown  to  colder  climes.  The  dark  forest 
of  mangos,  beyond  the  city  walls,  was  vocal  with  a  thou- 
sand melodies.  A  thousand  insects  whose  life  would 
wither  at  the  north-wind's  breath,  glittered  in  the  moon- 
beams, or  sang  within  the  shadow  of  the  trees.  The 
nightly  saturnalia  of  the  animal  world  had  returned.  Even 
man,  restless,  dissatisfied,  impatient — fevered  by  ambition 
or  avarice — trembling  with  guilty  fears,  or  rapt  in  lofty 
meditations,  owned  the  witchery  of  the  hour,  and  forgot  to 
struggle,  to  shudder,  or  to  hope.  From  the  back  piazza 
of  the  house  the  two  friends  looked  out  upon  the  enchant- 
ing scene. 

14 


158  BERNARD     LILE. 

"  This  island,"  said  Velasquez,  "  will  some  day  own  the 
dominion  of  the  'stars  and  stripes,'  and  then  it  will  be  a 
paradise." 

"Nothing  is  more  certain,"  rejoined  his  companion; 
"  party  feuds,  and  sectional  jealousies  may  keep  it  out  for 
a  time,  but  it  must  inevitably  become  a  part  of  the  Ameri- 
can Union,  and  you  and  I  will  probably  live  to  see 
it." 

"  I  hope  so ;  for  I  love  it  despite  the  blasting  tyranny 
that  crushes  its  industry,  and  poisons  its  happiness ;  and  I 
would  have  it  free  and  prosperous,  albeit  that  then  it 
would  cease  to  shelter  the  Rover  of  the  African  Main." 

"  If  you  accept  my  proposition  it  will  matter  little  to 
you  whether  the  slave  trade  is  permitted  or  forbidden." 

"Let  us  in,  Bernard,"  was  the  agitated  reply;  "I  know 
not  where  you  schooled  yourself  to  speak  ever  in  that  calm, 
unruffled  voice ;  but  I  believe  not  your  feelings  are  as  dead, 
and  waveless  as  they  seem;  and  I  know,  that  before  we 
converse  further  on  last  night's  topic,  I  must  have  brandy. " 

Without  a  word  Lile  followed  his  host  to  the  apartment 
they  had  occupied  during  the  heats  of  the  day. 

"Now,"  said  Velasquez,  after  supplying  himself  with 
the  needed  beverage,  "hear  my  answer,  and  ask  me  as  few 
questions  as  possible ;  for  you  can  ask  none  that  will  not 
give  me  pain.  I  have  thought  over  all  you  said ;  I  feel  the 
kindness  that  dictated  it,  and  acknowledge  the  hopes  it 
holds  out ;  but  it  will  not  do.  The  office  you  desire  me  to 
take  would  be  sure  to  excite  inquiry,  and  rip  up  by-gone 
events.  I  will  go  to  Texas,  not  in  your  ship,  but  my  own. 
Not  as  an  officer  of  the  national  navy,  but  as  a  'Down 
East  trader,'  who  is  willing,  for  a  consideration,  to  take 
a  few  guns  aboard  his  craft,  and  sail  for  a  time  under  Texan 
colors.  Doubt  not  that  I  will  place  that  consideration  at 


BERNARD     LILE  159 

a  figure  the  Texan  authorities  will  gladly  close  with. 
The  engagement  once  entered  into,  I  will  serve*  her  with 
whatever  skill  I  possess.  By  the  time  she  needs  me  no 
longer,  the  exploits  of  Juan  Yelasquez  will  be  forgotten, 
or  swallowed  up  in  those  of  some  new  adventurer.  In  the 
meantime,  I  can  prepare  the  simple  villagers  for  my  return 
by  purchasing  a  small  property  there,  and  giving  out  that 
the  wild  sailor,  whom  they  supposed  buried  in  the  North 
Pacific,  is  cruising  along  the  coast  of  Mexico,  and  expects 
to  settle  among  them  to  enjoy  the  little  wealth  his  labors 
have  gathered.  This  will  lull  inquiry,  or  direct  it  into 
channels  I  need  not  fear.  In  four  or  five  years  I  can  go 
back  with  safety.  If  this  satisfies  you,  let  us  turn  to  other 
subjects,  for  I  love  not  to  dwell  upon  promised  happiness 
with  maddening  years  of  doubt  and  trouble  intervening. 

"  I  wished  it  otherwise,  but  I  am  content.  Are  you 
rich  enough  to  carry  out  your  plans  ?" 

"I  have  enough,  and  more  than  enough.  If  I  should 
need  money  at  any  time,  I  will  apply  to  you. " 

"  I  shall  claim  your  hospitality  for  one  day  more,  and 
then  I  go  to  Zerah.  You  and  I  have  done  many  deeds, 
John  Abbott,"  he  continued,  "that  will  not  bear  overhaul- 
ing by  the  Great  Captain  above.  Mixed  with  them  there 
has  happily  been  something  of  good ;  but  there  is  much 
yet  to  atone.  Earnestly,  and  sincerely,  let  us  enter  on 
the  work." 

"  Bernard  Lile,  if  all  the  diamonds  of  Brazil  were  piled 
before  me,  I  would  not  take  them  and  exchange  the  feel- 
ings of  to-day  with  those  of  yesterday.  I  owe  you  more — 
love  you  more  than  any  human  thing — beyond  all  human 
things  together ;  and  come  what  may,  from  this  time  forth 
the  name  of  John  Abbott  shall  be  stainless.  Resume  your 
own;  you  have  done  enough  already  to  redeem  it,  and  may 
wear  it  with  pride." 

4 


160  BERNARD     LILE. 

"  Never  !  never !  My  punishment  would  be  incomplete 
could  that  sweet  hope  be  cherished." 

We  draw  the  veil  over  what  followed  in  that  lone  man- 
sion in  the  Island  City.  Long  and  fiercely  had  these  two 
battled  with  the  world.  They  had  riven  human  statutes 
and  mocked  at  human  punishments.  Their  fellow-worms 
could  invent  no  terror  to  daunt,  no  torture  to  appal  them, 
but  the  shadow  of  the  Archangel's  wing  rested  upon  them, 
and  they  became  as  pleading  infants  before  the  Eternal 
Throne. 


BERNARD     LILE.  161 


CHAPTER    X. 

"How  narrowly  we  miss  the  road 
That  might  our  future  life  decide  1 
So  many  paths  are  vainly  tried  I 
So  many  but  the  right  one  trode." 

"  The  slightest  thing  shall  turn  the  scale : 
The  music  of  a  distant  chime, 
The  visions  of  an  older  time, 
The  weariness  of  things  that  fail." 

A  BRIO  lying  in  the  harbor  of  Havana,  was  alive  and 
active  with  the  bustle  that  immediately  precedes  departure 
upon  a  distant  voyage.  The  monotonous,  but  not  unmu- 
sical, song  of  the  sailors,  as  they  hoisted  in  the  anchors, 
floated  over  the  still  and  glassy  waters.  The  flapping  sails 
already  began  to  catch  the  gentle  breeze,  as  the  parting 
words  of  John  Abbott  and  Bernard  Lile  were  spoken. 

"  Good-bye,"  said  the  former,  placing  his  foot  on  the 
topmost  round  of  the  descending  ladder.  "  Of  Juan  Ve- 
lasquez you  will  never  hear  again  ;  but  in  three  months, 
tidings  of  John  Abbott  will  be  borne  to  you  that  I  hope 
will  please  you." 

"I  doubt  it  not.  For  you  and  I  another  morn  has 
dawned  ;  and  if  the  cloud  comes  between  us  and  the  sun, 
we  must  remember  that,  to  hearts  as  stubborn  as  ours  it  is 
needful  the  chastening  hand  should  sometimes  be  mani- 
fest." 

The  flashing  oars  dipped  in  the  briny  deep — an  arrowy 
ripple  spread  over  its  still  and  waveless  surface,  and  the 
little  boat  glided  like  a  thing  of  life  to  the  mole. 

Soft  and  balmy  blew  the  breezes  that  wafted  the  wan- 
derer to  his  natal  home.  Alone  with  his  own  thoughts, 

14* 


BEENAKD     LILE. 

upon  the  trackless  sea,  resolutely  and  impartially  he  scanned 
the  pages  of  his  existence.  How  needful  is  such  a  task  for 
the  purest  of  the  children  of  earth  !  and  yet  how  few  under- 
take it  1  how  few  of  those  who  do,  succeed !  Pride  and 
self  love  are  forever  interposing  a  deceptive  mist  between 
us  and  the  past.  We  look  upon  what  has  been  done 
always  with  a  feverish  anxiety  to  have  it  appear  as  if  done 
for  the  best.  What  we  know  has  been  done  wrong — BO 
palpably  wrong  no  delusion  is  possible — we  attribute  to 
causes  beyond  our  control,  or  to  a  blind  and  undistin- 
guishing  destiny.  In  some  form,  or  in  some  shape,  the 
spirit  of  evil  is  ever  present,  making  self  examination  a 
mockery,  and  blasting  the  redeeming  fruits  of  repentance, 
by  clothing  that  repentance  in  the  debasing  garb  of  a 
weak  and  Cowardly  humiliation.  Not  in  this  spirit  did 
Bernard  Lile  disinter  the  deeds  he  had  committed.  Firmly 
and  justly  he  held  the  scales — honestly  and  fairly  he  weighed 
them  one  by  one — humbly  and  penitently  he  acknowledged 
the  wide  errors  he  detected — nobly  and  manfully  he  resolved 
to  amend  them.  In  the  rigid  impartiality  of  the  trial  he 
had  instituted,  he  discovered  a  hundred  ways  in  which  the 
most  fatal  of  his  mistakes  might  have  been  avoided,  and  its 
gloomiest  consequences  robbed  of  their  bitterness.  At  the 
time  it  seemed  to  him  impossible  not  to  have  acted  as  he 
did  without  loss  of  character  or  self-respect.  Now  he  per- 
ceived that  he  was  the  victim  of  the  same  sin  that  hurled  the 
rebellious  angels  from  heaven.  That  a  little  more  of  patience 
and  forbearance — a  little  less  of  pride  and  wilfulness,  would 
have  changed  the  whole  current  of  his  life,  and  left  him  free 
to  exert  the  high  powers  of  his  mind  and  body,  to  adorn 
and  ennoble  the  country  he  still  loved  with  a  yearning  ten- 
derness, even  in  the  stormiest  periods  of  his  exile,  or  the 
blackest  of  his  despair.  He  saw  it  all,  neither  magnifying 
nor  diminishing  its  unsightly  deformity ;  yet  he  indulged  no 


BERNARD     LILE.  163 

unavailing  regrets.  His  repentance  was  not  of  that  char- 
acter that  weeps  over  gone  follies,  but  makes  no  provision 
against  the  coming  of  new  ones.  Deeds,  not  tears,  were 
its  fruits.  A  better  life,  not  a  gloomier  one,  its  promise. 

With  a  clear  sky  and  favoring  gales  the  good  brig  tarried 
not  on  her  voyage.  Amid  the  din,  and  rush,  and  bustle 
of  a  New  York  wharf  Bernard  Lile  leaped  ashore.  A 
carriage  was  called,  and  he  was  soon  rolling  over  the  stony 
streets  to  the  dwelling  of  Monsieur  Evadne.  On  his 
meeting  with  Zerah  we  will  not  dwell.  Such  scenes  are 
sacred  from  the  vulgar  eye.  He  who  loves,  and  has  been 
separated  from  all  he  holds  most  dear  on  earth,  may  easily 
picture  the  fondness  of  the  hour — the  burning  kiss — the 
close  embrace — the  earnest  question  repeated  again  and 
again — the  loving  gaze  that  wanders  over  his.  features,  or 
rests  among  his  locks,  to  see  if  time,  or  war,  or  toil,  have 
left  the  impress  of  their  whitening  steps — the  renewed 
caress — the  speaking  face,  now  pale  as  the  lily,  now  flush- 
ing with  the  hues  of  the  rose — the  swimming  eye,  and  the 
ruby  lip,  lighted  by  smiles  as  brilliant  as  the  sunbeams 
that  fell  on  the  garden  of  Eden  the  first  morning  of  crea- 
tion— these  may  be  dreamed  of,  cherished,  hugged  to  our 
heart  of  hearts,  but  not  described,  revealed  or  pictured  to 
the  gross  senses  whose  channels  are  of  clay.  To  his  young 
wife  he  was  something  more  than  life  and  love  on  earth 
combined.  For  him  she  had  abandoned  country,  kindred, 
friends.  To  him  she  had  surrendered  heart,  imagination, 
judgment.  Beyond  these  and  above  them,  he  had  become 
her  religion.  On  the  strong  wing  of  an  Asiatic  fancy,  she 
had  soared  from  world  to  world,  until  she  reached  and 
rested  among  raptures  the  prophet  of  her  faith  was  power- 
less to  describe,  and  sought  not  to  penetrate  beyond  ;  but 
even  there,  no  flower  bloomed,  no  stream  glided  in  silvery 
beauty,  no  bird  warbled,  no  incense  burned,  unless  beauty, 


164:  BERNAKD     LILE. 

and  music  and  fragrance  were  enjoyed  by  him.  How  she 
met  him,  or  how  that  man  of  outward  calm,  and  inward 
fire,  returned  the  greeting,  is  a  secret  that  those  will  deserve 
to  be  happy  who  penetrate,  and  those  who  do  not,  never 
can  be. 

Days  passed,  calmly  and  sweetly  in  the  quiet  seclusion 
of  the  banker's  house.  Care,  toil,  grief,  struggles,  poverty 
and  crime  were  around  them,  but  they  knew  it  not.  The 
outward  world  was  forgotten,  or  remembered  only  as  an 
unpleasant  acquaintance,  with  whose  presence  and  society 
they  gladly  dispensed.  It  was  the  season  when  the 
"  fashionables  "  have  deserted  the  dusty  city,  for  the  more 
dissipated  life  of  the  watering  places.  Mrs.  Winter  had 
taken  wing  with  the  rest,  and  undisturbed  by  her  teasing 
importunities,  Zerah  gave  herself  up  to  happiness.  Lile  had 
communicated  to  Monsieur  Evadne  his  desire  to  purchase 
and  fit  up  a  suitable  residence  in  his  native  village,  and 
that  gentleman,  with  his  usual  business  promptitude,  had  set 
about  the  necessary  preliminaries. 

The  first  cold  days  of  Autumn,  brought  back  the  summer 
emigration,  and  Zerah  was  startled  from  her  dreams  of 
bliss  by  an  unexpected  call  from  Pauline  Winter.  With 
consummate  art  she  affected  never  to  have  heard  of  Bernard 
Lile's  return.  Spoke  of  her  meeting  with  him  as  an  un- 
hoped for  pleasure,  the  greater,  she  added,  from  her  expec- 
tation of  converting  him  into  an  ally,  with  whose  assistance 
Mrs.  Lile  might  be  induced  to  mingle  in  that  society  she 
was  formed  to  adorn. 

"I  should  fear,  madam,"  was  the  courteous  reply,  "to 
attempt  anything  in  which  you  had  failed.  Besides  these 
are  matters  I  understand  little  about,  and  in  which  I  never 
interfere.  Zerah  must  consult  her  own  taste,  as  she  has 
always  heretofore." 

"  And  that  taste,"  added  his  wife,  "  leads  me  to  prefer 


BEEN  A  ED     LILE.  165 

the  seclusion  that  early  training  and  habit  have  made  a 
second  nature.  You  must  pardon  us,  Mrs.  Winter ;  I 
should  bring  a  cloud  upon  your  gay  circles  by  attempting 
to  move  within  them." 

"  That  were  impossible.  But  if  you  will  not  come  your- 
self, I  hope  you  will  occasionally  surrender  your  husband 
to  my  keeping.  He  at  least  has  not  habit  and  religion  to 
plead  as  an  excuse." 

"  Certainly,"  said  Lile,  "  I  could  not  wish  for  a  fairer 
conductress  through  the  mazes  of  fashion ;  and  none  but  the 
most  imperious  motives  could  induce  me  to  decline  so 
tempting  a  proposal.  Really,  though,  Mrs.  Winter,  my 
habits  are  almost  as  lonely  as  Zerah's.  It  has  been  long 
since  I  mingled  familiarly  with  any  society  except  that  of 
the  camp." 

"So  much  the  better,"  was  the  rejoinder.  "I  am  told 
that  long  abstinence  from  the  enjoyment  of  any  favorite 
taste,  or  appetite,  redoubles  its  pleasure.  You  shall  come 
to  me  soon,  and  make  the  experiment." 

"  Perhaps  so.  But  I  make  no  promises.  My  stay  in 
this  city  may  not  be  a  long  one.  My  duties  may  at  any 
time  call  me  away ;  and  you  may  judge  how  unfit  I  am  for 
fashionable  life,  when  I  venture  to  plead  duty  to  a  lady  as 
an  excuse  for  not  at  once  complying  with  her  request. 

"  I  judge  nothing  now ;  but  shall  reserve  the  question  for 
decision  and  discussion,  when  we  meet  at  one  of  my  '  evpa- 
ing  reunions. ' " 

More  passed  in  the  same  vein.  The  lady  took  her  de- 
parture, b^ieving  she  had  at  length  succeeded  in  her  long 
cherished  scheme,  but  without  the  exulting  pride  she  once 
thought  that  success  would  bring.  There  was  thought 
upon  her  brow  as  she  entered  the  splendid  equipage  at  the 
door,  and  there  was  more  of  feeling  than  she  knew,  or  meant 
to  express,  in  her  voice,  as  she  said, 


166  BERNARD     LILE. 

"  Good  bye.  Before  many  days  I  shall  ask  you  what 
you  think  of  life  in  New  York." 

An  hour  before  she  was  burning  to  introduce  him  to 
society.  Now  she  would  gladly  postpone  it,  if  she  could 
invent  any  other  scheme  to  secure  his  society  untrammelled 
by  the  presence  of  his  wife.  A  strange  riddle  is  the  human 
heart.  Like  the  little  child,  who  cries  and  frets  because  its 
mother  will  not  let  it  play  with  the  burning  taper,  so  we 
grown  up  children,  grow  angry,  impatient,  and  rebellious, 
when  any  object  of  desire  is  beyond  our  reach.  Let  the 
protecting  care  of  the  mother  be  withdrawn  from  the  child, 
and  it  learns,  through  the  agony  of  blistered  fingers,  that 
brightness  and  beauty  are  not  always  harmless  playthings. 
Happier  than  the  adult,  its  punishment  is  temporary,  while 
the  lesson  endures  for  a  life-time.  For  our  delusions,  on 
the  other  hand,  there  is  no  cure;  because  the  discovery 
that  they  are  delusions,  is  fatal.  We  go  on  drawing  thread 
after  thread  from  the  inmost  core  of  the  heart,  and  twining 
them  into  a  glossy  drapery,  on  which  we  hang  the  hopes 
and  joys  of  existence.  If  the  support  to  which  they  are 
attached  should  give  way,  the  life-blood  is  dragged  out  by 
the  falling'  thread,  and  all  human  feeling  hurried  to  a  ray- 
less  tomb.  From  such  lessons  no  wisdom  is  ever  gathered, 
no  amendment  ever  follows.  They  are  sent  in  judgment, 
not  in  mercy,  and,  to  add  to  the  bitterness  of  the  punish- 
ment, they  are  clothed  in  the  semblance  of  boons  we  have 
importunately  demanded,  and  impiously  reproached  the 
hand  that  withheld  them. 

Alone  in  her  carriage,  Mrs.  Winter  became  seriously  and 
gloomily  thoughtful.  The  curtain  of  a  hitherto  hidden 
mystery  in  her  existence  was  beginning  to  be  withdrawn. 

"He  is  singularly  handsome,"  was  her  inward  reflection. 
"  So  calm,  so  self-possessed,  and  withal  so  gentle  in  his 
manners,  who  could  believe  his  life  had  been  passed  in 


BERNABD     LILE.  167 

camps,  with  a  rude  soldiery  for  his  only  tutors.  Mr. 
Bernard  Lile  may  tell  me  what  he  pleases,  but  that  soft 
and  refined  politeness  was  learned  in  the  peaceful  courts  of 
kings,  not  in  the  rough  tents  of  war.  But  it  is  his  voice 
that  moves  me  most ;  low,  and  sweet,  and  musical  as  an 
-<Eolian  harp  ;  oh !  how  much  better  is  it  fitted  for  a  lover's 
pleading  in  a  lady's  bower,  than  a  chieftain's  harsh  com- 
mands amid  the  vile  din  and  butchery  of  a  battle-field. 
Why  did  I  not  meet  him  before  such  impassable  barriers 
had  grown  up  between  us?  How  madly  I  should  have 
loved  him  1  How  different  would  my  existence  have  been 
from  the  aimless  thing  it  is  ?" 

Poor  self-deceiver,  you  love  him  now.  The  burning 
taper  is  before  you.  With  the  child's  simplicity  you  are 
longing  to  play  with  the  graceful  flame.  The  boon  you 
seek  is  death  ;  and  if  left  for  another  week  to  the  guidance 
of  your  own  judgment,  woe  and  doom  are  before  you. 

When  Lile  returned  to  the  room  where  he  had  left  his 
wife,  he  found  her  standing  on  the  floor.  She  approached, 
and  placing  her  hand  on  his  shoulder,  inquired  anxiously, 

"  Will  .you  go  to  these  public  parties,  Bernard  ?" 

"  No,  Zerah.  For  many  reasons,  no.  First,  and  that 
would  be  enough  alone,  it  would  cause  you  uneasiness. 
You  have  not  mentioned  Mrs.  Winter's  name  since*  my 
return,  but  I  have  forgotten  no  word  of  your  letter. 
Besides,  it  does  not  at  all  comport  with  my  plans  to  become 
an  object  of  curiosity  to  all  the  idle  people  of  New  York. 
I  meant  to  leave  here  very  soon,  at  all  events.  Mrs.  Winter 
has  hurried  our  departure.  To-morrow  we  will  go,  if  you 
can  put  up  for  a  time  with  the  discomforts  of  an  unfinished 
house." 

He  took  her  hands  in  his,  and,  drawing  her  nearer  to 
him,  stooped  to  imprint  a  kiss  upon  her  brow.  The  shadows 
of  doubt  and  foreboding  anxiety,  which  had  gathered  there, 


168  BERNARD     LILE. 

were  dissipated,  and  a  glad  smile  lighted  up  her  angel 
features,  as  she  replied, 

"  I  can  put  up  with  anything  where  you  are,  but  in  truth 
there  is  nothing  to  put  up  with.  It  will  be  a  pleasure, 
rather  than  an  annoyance,  to  try  a  more  primitive  mode  of 
living  than  is  allowable  under  Monsieur  Evadue's  roof. 
You  will  think  me  childish  and  foolish,"  she  continued, 
"  but  I  cannot  drive  from  my  mind  the  conviction,  that 
Mrs.  Winter  will  some  day  work  you  harm.  I  had  a 
strange  wild  dream,  while  you  were  gone.  I  thought  she 
had  come  between  you  and  me,  and  I  had  stabbed  her  as 
she  slept.  When  I  waked,  I  could  scarcely  shake  off  the 
impression  that  the  warm  blood  still  covered  my  hand.  I 
shudder  even  yet  to  think  of  it." 

"  You  must  strive  to  give  brighter  colors  to  your  fancies, 
Zerah.  The  fact  that  Mrs.  Winter  stiil  lives,  in  excellent 
health,  ought  to  teach  you  the  fallacy  of  trusting  to  dreams. " 

"  Nay,  I  believe  not  in  dreams  as  the  vulgar  interpret 
them :  but  if  read  aright  they  have  a  voice  of  wisdom  not 
to  be  despised.  Once,  when  a  little  girl,  I  wandered  forth 
with  my  father  to  gather  the  flocks  from  the  hill  side. 
We  met  an  old  man  weeping  bitterly.  His  life  had  been 
so  blameless  and  affectionate  that  he  was  known  through- 
out the  tribe  as  the  '  favorite  of  Allah.'  Wondering  what 
it  was  that  had  wrung  such  bitter  tears  from  the  patriarch, 
my  father  approached  and  inquired  into  the  cause  of  his 
grief. 

"  '  I  had  a  dream  last  night,'  was  the  reply,  '  that  dis- 
turbs me  sorely.  I  dreamed  I  had  murdered  the  friend  of 
my  early  days.' 

"  And  my  father  spoke,  as  you  did  but  now,  and  said, 
'  Why  weep  for  that  ?  you  know  it  was  all  unreal ;  your 
friend  still  lives.' 

" '  Yes,  so  the  young  and  strong  always  reason  ;  but  the 


BERNARD     LILB.  169 

spirit,  that  trembles  on  the  verge  of  eternity,  is  gifted  with 
a  clearer  vision.  Allah  sends  no  messenger  on  an  idle 
errand.  That  dream  came  to  warn  me  to  guard  well  the 
future — that  I  had  within  me  impulses  and  passions  that 
might  lead  to  murder — that  under  the  influence  of  interest, 
ambition,  or  anger  I  had  the  capacity  to  dye  my  hands  in 
the  blood  of  my  dearest  friend.  Therefore  I  weep  to  find 
that  old  age,  and  a  life  of  self  watching,  have  not  conquered 
the  innate  baseness  of  my  nature,  and  that  I  must  go  on 
trembling,  and  guarding  against  myself  to  the  tomb.' 

"  The  old  man's  language  has  abided  with  me  to  the 
present  day.  I  shudder  to  think  there  are  things  that 
would  make  me  shed  blood." 

"  Is  that  all,"  replied  her  husband,  in  a  lighter  tone  than 
was  usual  for  him.  "  Then  be  at  rest,  sweet  one,  for  that 
is  a  knowledge  no  dream  was  needed  to  impart.  Unless 
my  memory  is  greivously  at  fault,  you  have  shed  blood,  and 
shuddered  not  when  it  flowed." 

"But  that  was  by  your  side  and  in  your  defence." 

"  Yes,  and  I  little  thought  when,  to  amuse  you,  I  spent 
months  in  teaching  you  to  wield  the  light  yataghan  of  Asia, 
that  one  day  the  lessons  would  be  turned  to  so  good  an 

account.     If  you  had  dreamed  of  that  beforehand,  I  should 

j  ' 

have  had  more  faith  in  your  visions  now.  For  the  rest, 
be  assured  that  all  of  us  need  self  watching ;  but  there  is 
no  reason  why  that  supervision  should  not  be  exercised 
without  bringing  gloom  and  disquiet  to  the  mind.  Hence- 
forth let  the  clouds  be  mine,  and  the  sunshine  yours.  I 
must  go  forth  to  prepare  for  our  departure.  Make  your 
preparations  also.  In  a  few  days,  among  the  green  hills 
of  New  Hampshire,  you  will  forget  this  idle  dream." 

She  said  no  more ;  but  she  did  not  forget.  It  had 
taken  too  strong  hold  of  her  fancy  to  allow  reason  to 
combat  it  successfully. 

15 


170  BEKNAED     LILE. 

In  a  little  village  of  New  Hampshire,  whose  name  and 
exact  locality,  the  curious  reader  must  excuse  us  for  with- 
holding, weeks  and  months  of  undisturbed  and  tranquil 
happiness  flew  over  the  heads  of  Zerah  and  her  husband. 
Gradually  Lile  had  worked  himself  into  the  regards  of  the 
sturdy  villagers.  No  ostentation  of  wealth — no  assumption 
of  superiority  proclaimed  the  wide  difference  between  the 
rich  and  gifted  stranger,  and  his  unpretending  neighbors. 
Daily  he  mingled  with  them  familiarly  as  an  equal,  receiving 
and  bestowing  the  hundred  little  kindnesses  that  sweeten  the 
intercourse  of  adjoining  farmers.  His  wife,  too,  had  thrown 
aside  her  eastern  garb,  and  not  unfrequently  was  seen 
wending  across  the  fields  to  the  old  homesteads  around,  or 
listening  with  grave  attention  to  the  advice  of  the  thrifty 
house-wives  who  insisted  on  instructing  her  in  all  the  mys- 
teries of  the  kitchen  and  the  pantry.  By  and  by  she  was 
prevailed  upon  to  attend  the  old  stone  church,  whose 
erection  dated  back  beyond  the  revolution,  and  though  she 
never  neglected  the  observances  of  her  own  faith,  she 
exhibited  a  reverential  respect  for  those  of  her  Christian 
neighbors,  and  the  venerated  pastor  already  began  to  speak 
of  her  as  "  a  brand  snatched  from  the  burning."  Her  hus- 
band knew  her  better.  He  knew  that  soft  nature  was  harder 
than  steel  in  all  matters  connected  with  her  religjon,  but 
he  listened  to  the  old  pastor's  words  without  attempting  to 
correct  his  error.  To  her  he  said, 

"  I  feared  greatly  these  people  would  annoy  you  with 
their  preaching,  for  I  knew  of  old  that  it  is  the  nature  of 
a  Yankee  to  feel  more  interest  in  everybody's  soul  than 
his  own.  I  am  rejoiced  to  see  how  easily  you  have  accommo- 
dated yourself  to  circumstances,  and  how  good  humoredly 
you  submit  to  their  obtrusive  intermeddlings  with  your 
conscience. " 

"  Love,  Bernard,"  was  the  reply,  "  is  a  gentle  teacher, 


BERNARD     LILE.  171 

and  a  happy  heajt  finds  no  difficulty  in  banishing  ill 
temper.  These  people  are  kind  to  you.  They  are  trying 
to  be  kind  to  me,  and  it  would  be  cruel  to  tell  them  by 
word  or  act  they  are  only  impertinent. " 

"  You  are  right,  and  I  was  wrong  to  mistrust  the  spirit 
in  which  you  would  receive  it,  Remember,  if  at  any  time 
hereafter  you  should  grow  impatient  with  them,  there  is 
nothing  that  so  delights  a  genuine  Yankee  as  wearying 
heaven  with  prayers  for  some  person  who  stands  in  less 
need  of  them  than  himself,  or  some  thing  about  which  he 
is  in  profound  ignorance,  yet  imagines  he  understands  a 
little  better  than  his  Maker.  Every  community  has  its 
follies.  In  New  England  seven  in  every  ten  are  afflicted 
with  the  belief,  that  the  Almighty  has  placed  them  here  for 
the  special  purpose  of  enlightening  and  redeeming  the  rest 
of  mankind,  and  that  in  order  to  do  this,  it  it  quite  imma- 
terial how  many  vices  and  immoralities  they  leave  uncor- 
rected,  and  unrebuked  at  home,  so  they  only  declaim 
loudly  and  long  against  those  they  discover,  or  imagine  to 
exist,  elsewhere.  Bear  with  them  until  it  becomes  really 
offensive.  In  that  case  I  know  how  to  put  a  stop  to  it.  In 
any  case  consult  your  own  heart,  and  that  alone,  it  is  a 
truer  and  a  holier  guide  than  you  can  find  in  all  New 
England." 

A  new  subject  for  gossip  now  engrossed  the  attention  of 
the  villagers.  An  agent  had  come  up  from  Boston  and 
bought  the  old  homestead  of  Ephraim  Abbot.  It  was 
soon  known  that  this  purchase  had  been  made  in  the  name 
of  John  Abbott,  the  wild  sailor  boy,  who  had  gone  off  on 
a  whaling  expedition  and  never  returned.  Rumors  were 
rife  that  he  had  amassed  a  considerable  fortune  by  gainful 
traffic  with  the  Pacific  islands,  and  was  now  cruising  as  a 
privateer  under  the  flag  of  Texas,  against  the  commerce  of 
Mexico.  None  knew  exactly  when  he  would  return,  but 


172  BERNARD     LILE. 

the  purchase  of  his  father's  former  mansion'was  regarded  as 
conclusive  proof  that  he  intended  soon  to  settle  for  life  in 
his  native  village.  Everywhere  there  is  magic  .in  wealth. 
Here,  where  titles  of  nobility  are  forbidden,  and  coronets 
and  ducal  crowns,  are  not  allowed  to  divide  the  admiration 
of  the  populace,  we  look  at  the  rich  through  magnifying 
glasses  of  intense  power.  From  one  end  of  the  republic 
to  the  •  other,  they  are  treated  with  a  subserviency  whose 
universality  is  all  that  redeems  it  from  baseness.  The 
satirist  may  ridicule,  the  moralist  bemoan,  and  the  orator 
denounce  this  patent  meanness ;  but  men  who  have  read 
the  poem  with  delight,  and  the  essay  with  a  feeling  con- 
viction of  its  truth,  or  listened  with  rapt  attention  to  the 
burning  words  of  the  speaker,  will,  the  next  hour,  run 
across  a  crowded  street  to  shake  a  rich  man's  hand,  when 
virtue  and  intellect  clothed  in  rags,  if  met  upon  the  same 
pavement  would  struggle  in  vain  for  a  passing  notice.  It 
was  wonderful  with  how  many  virtues  the  reported  riches 
of  John  Abbott  had  clothed  him.  Those  who  a  month 
before  had  forgotten  his  existence,  and  those  who  spoke  of 
him  as  a  graceless  scamp,  for  whom  the  devil  had  an 
especial  fondness  from  his  cradle,  now  remembered  a 
hundred  anecdotes  of  his  goodness  of  heart,  and  energy 
of  character,  and  more  than  one  gray  headed  wiseacre  was 
heard  to  say,  in  tones  of  self-gratulation,  "  I  always  knew 
there  was  backbone  in  the  boy."  Bernard  Lile  was  the 
only  person  in  the  village  who  appeared  to  be  unabsorbed 
by  the  momentous  event.  s  He  listened  to  all  the  others  had 
to  say,  but  made  no  comments  on  the  various  stories  he 
heard. 

Winter  came — the  hard  winter  of  New  England.  Cold 
and  bitter  as  it  was,  Zerah  gladly  welcomed  its  coming, 
since  it  afforded  a  never-failing  excuse  for  the  seclusion 
she  loved  to  indulge.  Her  husband  went  forth  as  usual, 


BEENAKD     LILE. 

but  she  stirred  not  beyond  her  own  door.  Early  in  April 
Lile  entered  her  apartment  and  handed  her  an  open  letter. 
It  was  from  John  Abbott. 

"Youf  accounts,"  he  wrote,  "are  so  favorable,  that  I 
have  changed  my  original  purpose.  I  shall  be  with  you 
in  two  months  after  this  is  received.  You  know  all  that  is 
needful  to  be  done,  and  I  leave  it  in  your  hands." 

"I  am  so  glad,"  she  exclaimed,  glancing  over  the  brief 
contents  of  the  letter ;  "  I  love  that  man,  though  I  saw  him 
but  seldom." 

"And  you  were  right  Zerah.  The  instincts  of  the  good 
are  the  truest  wisdom  after  all.  Show  me  the  man  upon 
whom  young  girls  and  children  love  to  fondle,  and  I  will 
show  you  one  who,  whatever  the  world  may  say  of  him, 
has  a  kind  and  upright  heart.  John  Abbott  has  long 
followed  a  traffic  forbidden  by  the  laws,  and  reprobated  by 
the  philanthropists,  but  he  is  sterling  gold  nevertheless." 

Before  those  two  months  had  rolled  away,  the  rose  had 
faded  from  the  cheek  of  Zerah,  and  the  springy  lightness 
of  her  step  was  gone.  The  winds  of  the  White  Mountains 
had  swept  over  the  sun-born  flower  of  Asia,  and  mingled 
with  its  warm  life  the  icy  chill  of  consumption.  Care,  skill, 
and  nursing,  were  lavished  upon  her,  but  her  step  grew 
weaker  visibly,  and  the  hollow  cough,  too  surely  indicated 
the  fatal  nature  of  the  disease.  Lile  would  sit  by  her  side, 
and  talk  for  hours  tenderly  and  hopefully,  but  alone  in  his 
own  room  he  paced  the  floor  with  uncertain  steps,  often 
raising  his  clenched  hand,  and  uttering  a  fierce  groan  of 
mingled  agony  and  defiance.  About  this  time  John 
Abbott  made  his  promised  appearance.  He  was  warmly 
welcomed  by  the  villagers,  and  days  were  given  up  to 
receiving  their  visits,  and  listening  to  their  congratulations. 
At  length  an  ill-natured  gossip,  anxious  to  ingratiate  him- 
self with  the  rich  man,  inquired  if  their  new  neigbor,  Mr, 

15* 


BEENAKD     LILE. 

Lile,  had  called  to  pay  his  respects,  and  upon  being 
answered  in  the  negative,  was  proceeding  to  comment 
harshly  upon  the  seeming  discourtesy,  when  he  was  inter- 
rupted by  another,  of  better  heart,  who  suggested  that  the 
serious  illness  of  Mrs.  Lile  might  well  be  her  husband's 
apology.  This  gave  Capt.  Abbott  the  opportunity  he 
desired  to  make  inquiries  without  exciting  remark,  and  he 
soon  extracted  a  full  history  of  Bernard  Lile  and  his  wife 
since  their  settlement  in  .  At  the  close  of  the  con- 
versation he  announced  his  purpose  to  "drop  in  before 
long  and  take  a  look  at  the  stranger."  Whatever  Capt. 
Abbott  did  was  right  of  course;  and  "everybody"  ex- 
claimed, "what  a  kind,  good  heart  he  has!"  when  they 
saw  him  next  day  deliberately  walking  towards  the  house 
of  mourning. 

Their  meeting  was  that  of  stern,  strong  men,  who  love 
each  other,  and  have  been  brought  together  in  a  period  of 
trial  and  of  sorrow.  Scarcely  a  word  was  spoken — not  a 
tear  gathered  in  either  eye,  but  their  hands  were  clasped 
with  a  force  that  would  have  wrung  the  blood  from  fingers 
less  sinewy  and  hard.  At  once  Lile  led  his  friend  to  the 
room  where  Zerah  was  reclining  on  a  sofa,  by  the  open 
window,  to  enjoy  the  breezes  of  summer.  Gently  and  ten- 
derly the  sailor  greeted  her,  regretting  that  he  did  not  find 
her  in  the  same  high  health  as  when  they  parted  at  Tim- 
boo,  but  speaking  cheerfully  of  her  speedy  recovery.  He 
made  many  minute  inquiries  of  the  places  she  had  visited 
since,  and  listened  with  deep  interest  to  all  that  had  pleased 
or  gratified  her  in  her  journeyings.  When  he  rose  to  leave 
it  was  with  the  assurance  that  he  would  call  every  day  she 
was  willing  to  receive  him.  Lile  walked  a  short  distance 
with  him  down  the  green  lane. 

"  I  think  I  know  all,"  he  said,  "  but  it  is  possible  my 


BERNARD     LILE.  175 

love  for  her  frightens  me  too  much.  Do  you  think  there 
is  a  chance  for  her  recovery." 

"  Bernard,  if  you  were  a  weak  mau — nay  more,  if  fate 
could  deal  any  blow  that  would  make  you  shrink  and 
cower ;  in  a  word,  if  you  were  not  my  brother,  I  would  tell 
you  to  hope." 

"  Hush !  Breathe  not  that  word.  Even  she  knows  it 
not.  While  I  live  it  must  be  blotted  from  your  vocabulary. 
When  I  am  gone  the  secret  is  yours ;  do  with  it  as  you 
will." 

"You  think  then,"  he  continued,  "she  must  die." 

"Before  another  crop  of  flowers  have  scented  the  air, 
the  loveliest  bloom  that  ever  gladdened  the  earth  since 
Adam  and  Eve  were  driven  by  the  flaming  sword  and 
waving  wing  of  the  angel  from  Paradise,  will  be  hidden 
beneath  the  turf  in  yonder  church-yard." 

"  So  my  own  judgment  tells  me.  I  shall  see  you  to- 
morrow. " 

"  Yes ;  and  the  next  day,  and  the  next.  Never  in  gloom 
or  peril  have  you  fallen  away  from  my  side,  and  though  I 
cannot  avert  this  grief,  I  can,  and  will  share  it  with  you. " 

John  Abbott  was  true  to  his  promise.  Every  day  he 
was  at  his  brother's  door.  Every  day  he  sat  by  the  side 
of  Zerah,  and  beguiled  the  weary  hours  with  the  wild 
stories  he  had  gathered  in  his  adventurous  career,  until  at 
last  the  stricken  victim  began  to  look  for  his  coming  with 
as  much  impatience  as  her  husband.  The  villagers  soon 
found  that  good-humored  and  frank  as  Capt.  Abbott  gene- 
rally was,  there  were  some  subjects  with  which  it  was  not 
safe  to  meddle.  Above  all  he  brooked  no  allusion  to  his 
brother's  wife,  or  her  religion.  One  day  he  was  walking 
with  a  deacon  along  the  street.  It  was  the  hour  when  the 
factory  operatives  were  released  from  the  noon-day  meal. 
A  company  of  volunteers  were  parading  at  the  time.  The 


176  BERNARD     LILE. 

little  children,  pleased  with  the  show,  paid  little  attention 
to  any  thing  but  the  soldiers.  One  of  them,  covered  with 
cotton  from  the  factory,  heedlessly  ran  against  the  prim 
deacon,  and  soiled  his  best  suit.  With  an  angry  "  mind 
what  you  are  about,"  the  deacon  rudely  applied  his  huge 
paw  to  the  little  fellow's  delicate  cheek.  In  a  moment 
Abbott  caught  his  arm  in  the  gripe  of  a  vice,  and  said 
sternly, 

"  Give  that  boy  a  dollar. " 

"  What  should  I  give  him  a  dollar  for  ?" 

"Because  this  muster  is  the  only  glimpse  of  sunshine 
the  poor  thing  has  seen  in  a  month,  and  you  have  clouded 
that  by  your  brutal  treatment." 

"I  guess  I  have  no  dollars  to  give  away." 

"And  I  guess,"  was  the  prompt  reply,  "that  if  you  don't 
do  it,  I  will  wallow  you  in  the  mire,  until  every  rag  on 
your  back  is  too  filthy  to  carpet  a  pig-stye." 

This  threat,  and  the  manner  of  him  who  made  it,  could 
not  be  resisted.  The  dollar  was  slowly  and  reluctantly 
handed  to  the  now  grinning  urchin. 

"So  far,  so  well,"  said  Abbott;  "but  night  before  last, 
at  prayer-meeting,  you  took  occasion  to  put  up  a  long 
petition  for  the  '  poor,  pagan  wife '  of  Bernard  Lile.  If 
he  had  heard  you,  he  would  have  broken  every  bone  in 
your  body,  if  the  life  of  a  generation  had  died  with  you. 
And  now  let  me  tell  you  for  myself,  that,  if  ever  you 
breathe  her  name  again  in  public  meeting,  I  will  get  up 
and  expose  your  conduct  of  to-day." 

The  deacon  walked  way,  and  John  Abbott  had  an 
enemy  for  life  :  but  John  Abbott  cared  very  little  for  that. 

At  another  time  he  was  listening  to  one  of  those  pious 
gentry,  whose  charity  is  too  expansive  to  be  confined  to 
their  neighorhood  or  state,  discoursing  upon  the  horrors 
of  southern  slavery,  and  solemnly  averring  that  he  be- 


•IP 

BERNABD     LILE.  177 

lieved  it  to  be  a  holiness  in  the  sight  of  God  and  man  to 
assist  a  slave  in  escaping  from  his  master. 

"  Have  you  ever  been  in  a  slave  state  ?"  asked  Abbott 

"  I  am  happy  to  say  I  never  have,"  was  the  pert  reply, 
"  and  I  trust  I  never  may  be. "  , 

"Well,  I  have  :  and  I  am  happy  to  say  there  is  no  state 
south  of  the  Potomac,  where  a  man  could  do  what  you  did 
three  weeks  ago,  without  being  shunned  as  a  leper." 

"  What  did  I  do,  sir  ?" 

"You  employed  a  man  to  mow  in  your  meadow,  and 
when  he  accidentally  cut  himself  dangerously,  you  not  only 
refused  to  send  for  surgical  assistance,>  but  refused  to  feed 
him,  and  turned  him  from  your  door,  bleeding  as  he  was. 
I,  sir,  the  upholder  of  slavery,  took  him  in  ;  fed,  nourished, 
and  tended  him.  Which  do  you  think  rendered  the  most 
acceptable  service  to  heaven  ?" 

The  man  slunk  off,  but  another,  who  was  not  disposed  to 
yield  the  argument  so  readily,  entered  the  lists  with  the  air 
of  a  man  who  is  about  to  propound  and  unanswerable 
interrogatory. 

"You  cannot  deny,  Captain  Abbott,  that  southern 
slavery  is  fatal  to  female  virtue  ?" 

"  I  do  deny  it.  Like  every  human  institution,  it  is 
liable  to  abuse ;  and  that  it  is  sometimes  abused  in  this 
regard,  I  do  not  question.  But  that  is  the  fault  of  human 
nature,  not  of  the  system.  If  your  life  was  pried  into  as 
closely  as  you  are  desirous  of  prying  into  the  lives  of  our 
southern  brethren,  it  would  be  easy  to  prove  you  a 
panderer  to  prostitution." 

The  man  was  one  of  the  most  sanctimonious  members  of 

the  church  in  .  He  reddened  with  anger  as  he 

replied, 

"  I  defy  you  to  make  good  your  insinuation." 

"  That  is  exactly  what  I  mean  to  do,"  was  the  cool  re- 


178  BERNARD     LILE. 

joinder.  "You  had  a  poor  orphan  girl  engaged  as  a 
'help'  in  your  family.  In  trying  to  avoid  treading  on 
your  little  child,  who  had  crawled  in  her  way,  she  stumbled, 
and  broke  a  handful  of  plates  and  dishes.  You  turned  her 
out  of  employment,  gave  her  a  bad  name,  refused  to  pay 
her  wages,  and  left  her  no  alternative  but  starvation,  or 
prostitution.  She  is  now  the  inmate  of  a  den  of  infamy. 
Do  you  think  a  just  God  will  permit  you  to  be  singing  in 
heaven,  while  she  is  shrieking  in  hell  ?" 

If  John  Abbott  had  been  a  poor  man,  he  would  have 

been  perfectly  unendurable  in ,  but  he  was  rich,  and 

his  bitter  sayings  were  all  set  down  to  the  account  of  a 
sailor's  "eccentricities." 

In  the  meantime,  Bernard  Lile  was  in  happy  ignorance 
of  all  that  was  passing  around  him.  Occupied  with  atten- 
tions to  his  suffering  wife,  he  never  bestowed  a  thought 
upon  the  outward  world.  Her's  was  the  common  history 
of  consumption.  At  times  the  hectic  flush  of  the  disease 
spread  over  her  cheek,  and  gave  it  the  rosy  hue  of  health. 
At  times  she  felt  better  and  stronger,  and  walked  forth 
into  the  fields,  leaning  on  the  arm  of  her  husband,  to  enjoy 
the  sweet  scenery  of  a  New  England  summer.  The  hope- 
less nature  of  her  complaint  had  been  hidden  from  her,  but 
one  evening  as  she  looked  out  upon  the  setting  sun,  she 
turned  and  said, 

"  I  am  going  before  you,  Bernard.  Like  yon  glorious  orb, 
darkness  will  soon  be  about  the  places  where  I  have  loved 
to  dwell ;  but  remember  the  sun  shines  on,  though  we  see  it 
not,  and  when  the  shadow  comes  to  us,  another  hemisphere 
is  bathing  in  its  lustre.  So  when  the  worm  is  eating  our 
earthly  tenement,  the  soul  only  goes  to  be  robed  by  angel 
hands  with  a  higher  loveliness. " 

It  was  the  first  time  she  had  alluded  to  her  approaching 
end,  and  accustomed  as  he  had  been  to  suppress  every  sign 


BERNARD     LILE.  179 

of  human  emotion  he  shuddered  as  the  trembling  tones  fell 
upon  his  ear. 

"  I  do  remember  it,  Zerah ;  and  I  remember  also  the 
prophecy  of  the  Syrian  Sage.  I  do  not,  indeed,  believe  in 
the  sweet  dream  precisely  as  he  painted  it,  but  my  soul 
tells  me  we  shall  meet  hereafter,  and  be  the  happier  for  the 
meeting." 

"Oh,  yes  !  But  for  that,  death  would  be  very  dark,  and 
very  dreary.  As  it  is,  I  think  of  it  as  a  long  parting, 
which  must  take  place,  and  which  it  is  wrong  to  sadden 
still  more  by  repining." 

"  You  view  it  justly,  my  own  love ;  and  I  will  try  to  bear 
this  blow  with  a  portion  of  your  own  sweetness  ;  although 
it  is  far  heavier  than  all  that  have  gone  before.  God 
placed  you  upon  earth  as  an  instrument  to  redeem  a  bold 
strong  man,  ^vhose  feet  had  wandered  widely  from  heaven. 
Your  mission  is  accomplished,  and  his  ministers  are  wait- 
ing to  bear  you  to  your  native  skies.  I  must  await  his 
good  pleasure  before  I  rejoin  you.  I  know  not  what  work 
he  may  have  for  me  to  perform,  but  I  am  sure  it  will  not 
be  denied  me  to  pray  earnestly  and  fervently,  that  it  may 
be  a  brief  one." 

"  Trust  all  to  Him.  I  see  before  you  days  of  usefulness, 
and  deeds  of  high  and  holy  import.  Happy  here  you 
cannot  be  when  I  am  gone,  but  you  can  pave  the  way  for 
a  happiness  that  knows  no  end,  and  you  will." 

A  week  later,  Bernard  Lile,  and  John  Abbott,  were 
standing  over  a  new  made  grave  in  the  old  church-yard 
of . 

"Let  there  be  no  name,"  said  the  former,  "upon  the 
tombstone.  Engrave  on  it,  the  simple  line,  '  The  beautiful 
has  departed.'  When  I  also  am  dust,  have  our  names 
linked  together  on  the  slab."  I  have  made  you  a  deed," 
he  continued,  "  of  the  little  farm,  and  all  that  pertains  to 


180  BERNARD     LILE. 

it.  Lock  up  the  room  in  which  she  died,  and  let  no  one 
enter  it  until  my  return.  Take  the  little  cimeter  in  the 
armory — it  was  hers,  and  saved  my  life  once  in  her  hand — 
hang  it  up  in  your  own  bed-room,  and  see  that  neither 
rust  nor  dirt  defiles  it.  With  all  else  do  as  you  think  best. 
If  you  should  marry,  and  need  additional  funds  for  your 
family  wants,  draw  upon  Evadne.  He  will  have  instruc- 
tions to  honor  your  drafts." 

"But,  Bernard,"  said  his  companion,  "I  have  no  ties  to 
bind  me  here,  and  see  no  reason  why  I  should  not  go  with 
you." 

"  There  are  many.  In  the  first  place  you  are  a  sailor, 
and  unfit  for  the  woods ;  but  the  unanswerable  reason  is, 
that  if  you  go,  there  will  be  no  one  left  to  do  all  that  is 
proper  and  right  for  her  who  found  Bernard  Lile  a  hardened 
devil,  and  left  him  a  man.  Besides,  I  shall  not  be  alone. 
I  left  a  friend  on  the  frontier,  as  bold,  as  strong,  and  as 
true  as  you  are,  John ;  and  that  is  saying  a  great  deal. 
The  forest  and  the  prairie  have  long  been  his  home.  I 
Bhall  seek  his  cabin  and  abide  with  him  for  a  time.  You 
will  hear  from  me  as  often  as  circumstances  will  permit. 
For  this  night  I  claim  the  shelter  of  your  roof.  Mine 
would  bring  up  thoughts  it  is  better  not  to  awaken.  To- 
morrow I  go." 

The  long  absence  he  contemplated,  and  the  many  things 
that  demanded  his  attention  before  his  departure,  pro- 
tracted his  stay  in  New  York,  far  beyond  his  original  ex- 
pectations. To  his  surprise,  he  received  a  note  from  Mrs. 
Winter,  condoling  with  him  on  his  recent  bereavement. 
It  was  written  kindly,  and  in  excellent  taste,  but  it  recalled 
events  that  were  painful,  and  he  would  have  prefered  that 
it  had  not  been  received.  There  was,  however,  no  alterna- 
tive but  to  answer  it,  and  he  did  so  with  graceful  courtesy. 
He  heard  of  her  no  more,  until  they  accidently  met  upon 


BERNARD     LILE.  181 

Broadway.  He  was  about  passing,  with  a  mere  bow  of 
recognition,  when  she  called  him  by  name,  and  made  some 
inquiry  he  could  not  avoid  answering  without  rudeness. 
Mrs.  Winter  had  far  too  much  tact  to  allude  to  his  former 
evasion  of  her  hospitalities,  but  she  remembered  it,  and 
was  determined  not  to  be  foiled  a  second  time. 

"  You  are  going  to  Monsieur  Evadne's  ?" 

"  Yes.  My  outdoor  business  for  the  day  is  completed, 
and  I  was  returning  to  address  some  letters  to  a  few 
friends  before  my  departure  from  New  York." 

"My  purchases  are  also  finished,"  she  said,  "and  as  I 
am  going  in  the  same  direction,  we  will  walk  on  together." 

With  easy  self-possession,  she  dropped  into  the  current 
news  of  the  day — making  not  the  slightest  allusion  to 
Zerah,  or  to  the  fashionable  world,  with  which  her  existence 
had  heretofore  seemingly  been  bound  up.  ^She  wished  him 
to  remember  neither  the  one,  nor  the  other.  With  the 
instinctive  quickness  of  a  woman,  she  felt  that  Bernard 
Lile  had  loved  for  the  last  time,  but  she  knew  that  the  very 
loneliness  that  follows  the  going  down  of  the  bright  star, 
from  which  we  have  drunk  in  all  of  gladness  and  beauty, 
that  has  cheered  our  mortal  state,  prepares  the  heart  for 
the  reception  of  kindly  emotions ;  and  that  words  fitly 
spoken  at  such  a  time,  are  sure  to  win  friendship,  if  they 
kindle  not  the  flames  of  a  new  passion  from  the  ashes  of 
the  old.  Love  was  represented  by  the  Ancients  as  a  blind 
divinity.  If  so,  his  other  organs  are  endowed  with  a 
delicacy  and  keenness  that  make  ample  atonement  for  the 
defect.  Mrs.  Winter  was  in  love,  and  with  exquisite  skill 
she  was  careful  to  say  nothing  to  scare  away  the  bird  she 
wished  to  entice. 

"  You  spoke  but  now,"  she  remarked,  "  of  your  speedy 
departure  from  New  York.  Do  you  indeed  leave  us 
soon  ?" 

16 


BERNARD     LILE 


"  Such  is  my  present  purpose.  I  have  beeu  delayed 
already  beyond  the  time  when  I  had  hoped  to  be  on  my 

journey." 

"It  would  be  impertinent,"  she  said,  slowly,  "to  question 
the  entire  correctness  of  a  purpose,  whose  controlling 
motive  I  do  not  know,  but  not  impertinent  nor  intrusive,  I 
trust,  to  regret  the  pleasure  of  which  it  threatens  to  de- 

prive me." 

"  I  had  not  the  vanity  to  suppose,"  he  replied,  "that  my 
going,  or  remaining,  would  bring  regret  or  satisfaction  to 
one  surrounded  as  you  are  with  enjoyments." 

"  The  enjoyments  may  not  be  as  real  as  they  seem." 
"  Those  of  this  world  seldom  are.     But  I  should  judge 
that  you  had  few  wishes  ungratified." 

"In  truth  there  are  very  few  :  still  the  conviction  that 
there  is  one  cherished  object  beyond  our  reach,  is  sufficient 
to  embitter  all  the  blessings  that  are  granted.  I  say  not 
this  is  my  case.  I  but  enunciate  a  truth  in  which  I  am 
Bure  you  will  concur.  We  part  at  this  corner,"  she  con- 
tinued, hastily,  as  if  unwilling  to  hear  a  reply,  "  I  shall  be 
rejoiced  to  see  you  again  before  you  leave.  Monsieur 
Evadne  can  furnish  you  with  our  address." 

To  an  invitation  so  conveyed,  it  was  difficult  to  frame  a 
refusal,  and  Lile  had  given  his  promise  to  call  upon  the 
Syren  before  she  walked  away. 

Why  Mrs.  Winter  should  perseveringly  seek  the  society 
of  a  man  who  did  not  love  her,  and  who  her  reason  told 
her  never  would,  is  a  question  philosophical  speculators 
may  settle  among  themselves.  It  might  be  a  sufficient 
answer  to  say  she  loved,  and  with  those  who  do,  hope  rarely 
dies.  We  may  think  it  extinguished.  We  may  examine 
our  bosoms  again  and  again,  and  say  that  it  is  ;  but  like 
the  little  stream  that  winds  its  living  path  hundreds  of  feet 
below  the  earth's  surface,  it  flows  on,  unseen,  unknown, 


BERNARD     LILE.  183 

buoyant  with  life,  and  seeking  only  some  narrow  crevice  to 
bubble  into  light. 

Still  another  question  may  suggest  itself.  Why  should 
she,  who  was  bound  for  life  to  another,  by  vows  plighted 
at  the  altar,  encourage  the  growth  of  a  passion  which, 
whether  successful  or  unsuccessful,  must  bring  woe,  and 
might  bring  suffering  and  disgrace  together  ?" 


curious  fool  be  still, 


Is  human  love  the  growth  of  human  will  ?" 

Nearly  always  we  are  hurried  into  errors,  where  the  heart  is 
concerned,  without  the  least  perception  of  the  consequences. 
The  dream  is  too  sweet  to  permit  us  to  reason  of  its  un- 
certain results :  or,  if  we  reason  at  all,  reason  itself  is  colored 
by  the  love  it  is  evoked  to  destroy.  As  long  as  the  threads 
are  of  gossamer,  we  think  it  ridiculous  to  guard  against 
fetters  a  breath  can  destroy.  By  the  time  we  wake  to  the 
necessity  of  a  struggle,  those  threads  are  of  hardened  steel, 
and  the  captive  is  bound  forever.  Nay,  more,  he  has  lost 
the  wish  to  be  free.  The  growth  of  such  a  passion  is  often 
as  rapid  as  the  gourd  that  sheltered  Jonah  on  the  plains 
of  Nineveh.  Happy,  thrice  happy,  would  it  be,  if  it 
withered  and  died  as  soon.  Mrs.  Winter  began  by  think- 
ing she  could  love  Bernard  Lile,  if  there  were  no  barriers 
between  them.  The  step  he  had  taken  of  leaving  New 
York,  suddenly,  and  without  warning,  connected  him  in- 
separably with  her  thoughts.  In  the  interval  of  his  absence, 
she  discovered  that  she  was  madly  in  love ;  for  the  first 
time  her  heart  had  been  touched.  She  knew  it,  and  she 
said  to  herself  that  she  rejoiced  he  was  gone.  She  even 
tried  to  believe  that  the  wearing  dissipation  of  fashionable 
life  would  soon  blot  his  image  from  her  memory. 

"How  is  it  possible,"  she  inwardly  asked,  "that  I, 
hackn-'od  in  the  world's  ways,  and  daily  wasting  mind  and 


184  BERNARD     LILE. 

heart  upon  its  mean  ambitions,  should  be  capable  of  lovirfg 
to  a  degree  that  might  be  dangerous?  When  younger, 
with  feelings  fresh  and  untutored  by  experience,  I  played 
with  the  gentle  passion ;  what  have  I  to  dread  now  ?" 

Mrs.  Winter  knew  not  that  Cupid  himself  had  suggested 
this  mode  of  reasoning,  and  she  went  on  thinking  of 
Bernard  Lile,  more  and  more,  until  his  manly  form  was 
ever  before  her,  and  his  musical  voice  eternally  ringing  in 
her  ear.  Often  she  awakened  from  slumbers  in  which  he 
had  mingled  with  the  bright  things  that  thronged  around 
her  dreaming  pillow,  and  then  she  would  close  her  eyes, 
and  try  to  sleep  again,  hoping  to  enjoy  once  more  the 
sweet  and  cherished  madness  of  the  vision.  By  and  by  she 
heard  that  his  young  and  lovely  wife  had  returned  to 
heaven :  and  her  heart  throbbed  with  startling  vehemence, 
when  she  reflected  that  a  mighty  gap  had  thus  been  made 
in  the  wall  of  adamant  that  separated  her  from  the  object 
of  her  absorbing  passion.  What  obstacle  now  remained  ? 
None,  she  thought,  but  the  formal  vows  her  husband  had 
purchased  at  the  marriage  altar,  and  these  were  but  little 
likely  to  restrain  her  from  the  gratification  of  the  intense 
delights  imagination  had  pictured.  Anxiously  she  revolved 
many  different  schemes  for  bringing  about  a  meeting  without 
seeming  to  seek  it ;  and  when  chance  at  length  effected  it, 
she  hailed  that  chance  as  a  happy  augury  for  the  future. 

Not  many  days  had  elapsed  before  Bernard  Lile  was  at 
the  door  of  the  stately  mansion  of  Mr.  Winter.  The  lady 
received  him  alone.  An  hour  passed  in  pleasant  and 
agreeable  conversation.  When  he  departed  she  bade  him 
adieu  with  winning  courtesy,  but  nothing  more.  She  did 
not  walk  to  the  door  with  him,  but  turned  to  the  music- 
stand,  and  examined,  or  seemed  to  examine,  the  contents 
of  a  new  volume,  until  he  had  descended  to  the  street. 
Then  she  sat  down  on  the  little  stool,  and  buried  her  face 


BERNARD     LILE.  185 

in  her  hands,  not  to  weep,  but  to  think.  After  a  while  she 
rose  and  walked  from  the  room,  muttering,  indistinctly, 

"  He  will  come  again.     I  am  sure  of  that." 

He  did  come,  and,  as  he  found  he  was  not  to  be  annoyed 
by  invitations  to  attend  her  public  parties,  his  visits  were 
repeated.  Gradually  her  manner  towards  him  became 
more  tender.  Gradually  she  led  him  away  from  intellec- 
tual topics  to  softer  themes  She  contrived  to  let  him 
understand,  not  suddenly  but  by  partial  glimpses,  how 
loveless  her  life  had  been,  and  gently  wooed  compassion  to 
her  joyless  lot.  Admirably  her  game  was  played.  With 
the  calculating  skill  of  a  finished  chess  player,  she  touched 
no  piece  it  was  dangerous  to  move.  Any  other  man 
would  have  been  subdued ;  and  even  he  with  all  his  wide 
experience,  and  lofty  intellect,  owed  his  safety  alone  to  the 
memories  that  clustered  about  the  grave  of  his  departed 
wife.  He  began  to  suspect  that  her  feelings  towards  him 
were  of  a  warmer  nature  than  prudence  would  justify, 
when  one  evening  as  they  stood  alone  at  a  window  watch- 
ing the  sinking  sun,  she  laid  her  hand  on  his  arm,  and 
looking  inquiringly  in  his  face,  said, 

"  Will  nothing  persuade  you  to  abandon  the  thoughts 
of  roving  away  from  a  land  as  lovely,  and  as  happy  as 
this  ?" 

"  I  can  hardly  say  that  a  choice  is  left  me,"  was  the 
reply.  "  Here  I  might  do  some  good,  but  that  is  proble- 
matical— At  all  events  I  know  where  there  is  a  field 
of  labor  for  which  I  am  fitted ;  and  I  must  not  permit 
pleasure  to  lessen  the  demands  of  duties  my  judgment  tells 
me  are  imperative." 

"  Do  you  then  think  that  in  our  pilgrimage  through  life 
it  is  wrong  or  improper  to  gather  such  enjoyments  as  are 
to  be  found  by  the  wayside  ?" 

"  Certainly  I  hold  no  such  opinion.  On  the  contrary  I 
16* 


BERNARD     LILE. 

believe  every  innocent  enjoyment  is  an  acceptable  offering 
in  the  sight  of  heaven.  I  only  mean  that  for  me  no  enjoy- 
ments are  left — that  nothing  but  duties  remain." 

"  Why  so  ?  Rich  as  you  are,  and  gifted  with  capacities 
for  the  keenest  intellectual  and  social  delights,  why  should 
you  not  sip  the  honey  that  is  presented  to  your  lips,  rather 
than  wander  afar  off  for  the  gall  and  wormwood  that  taxes 
your  industry  to  find  ?" 

The  sun  had  gone  down,  and  the  evening  star  was 
shining  alone  in  the  heavens.  He  answered  not  directly 
but  pointed  to  the  solitary  sphere  and  said,  mournfully, 

"Look  at  yonder  star.  Notwithstanding  all  its  bril- 
liancy it  is  denied  companionship  with  its  celestial  sisters. 
A  little  later  when  its  fellow  orbs  begin  to  glimmer  in  the 
blue  vault  it  will  sink  below  the  horizon's  edge.  So  it  has 
done  for  ages  that  are  gone ;  so  it  will  do  for  ages  that  are 
to  come.  To  me,  as  to  that  star,  the  doom  of  solitude  has 
been  spoken.  I  know  not  the  purpose,  but  I  know  that  it 
must  be  obeyed.  Wherever  the  happy  and  the  beautiful 
are,  my  stay  must  be  brief.  Already  I  am  beginning  to 
feel  that  I  have  needlessly  encountered  the  risk  of  receiving 
another  bruise  upon  a  withered  and  broken  reed. 

"  Your  simile  may  be  just  as  far  as  it  goes,  but  it  is 
imperfect.  Look  now  again  to  the  right  of  yonder  star 
whose  solitary  brilliancy  you  bemoan.  Do  you  not  see  a 
little  orb  whose  rays  are  almost  lost  in  the  splendor  by  its 
side  ?  Sweet  and  lovely  in  its  retiring  modesty  it  clings 
with  undying  tenacity  to  its  glorious  mate ;  together  they 
traverse  the  remaining  segment  of  the  circle  ;  together  they 
sink  into  the  ocean  wave." 

There  was  a  dead  silence  for  many  minutes.  When  she 
looked  up,  there  was  a  lustre  beyond  that  of  the  stars  in 
her  speaking  eyes,  and  sweeter  than  the  flutes  of  angels 
floated  the  soft  syllables — 


BERNARD     LILB.  187 

"  Do  you  understand  me  now  ?" 

The  step  of  Mr.  Winter  sounded  in  the  entry.  To  her 
it  was  as  hateful  as  the  sentence  that  condemns  a  felon  to 
the  gallows — to  him  it  was  as  welcome  as  the  pardon  that 
reverses  the  stern  decree. 

When  alone  in  his  own  apartment  he  passed  in  review 
the  events  of  the  last  ten  days,  and  wondered  at  his  blind- 
ness. He  thought  now  that  he  ought  to  have  perceived  she 
loved  him  from  the  beginning,  and  he  reproached  himself 
for  permitting  the  illusion  to  last  so  long.  How  to  remedy 
the  evil  was  his  next  care.  With  the  decisive  promptitude 
of  his  character  he  rang  the  bell,  and  requested  the  presence 
of  Monsieur  Evadne.  Upon  the  entrance  of  that  gentle- 
man,Jhe  calmly  remarked, 

"  I  have  not  given  as  much  attention  to  our  business 
matters,  my  good  friend,  for  the  last  few  days  as  I  might 
have  done,  and  I  have  sent  for  you  to  know  if  it  is  possible 
to  close  them  up  by  ten  o'clock  to-morrow." 

"Everything,"  replied  Evadne,  "  is  possible  with  energy 
and  industry." 

"  I  may  then  count  upon  its  being  done  ?" 

"  Assuredly.  It  will  only  cost  the  loss  of  a  few  hour's 
sleep,  and  that  my  clerks  are  as  well  accustomed  to  as 
myself." 

"  I  am  obliged  to  you  for  your  promptness.  There  is 
but  one  other  thing  I  wish  attended  to.  When  I  am  gone 
write  to  Robert  Wilson — advise  him  to  resign  his  commis- 
sion in  the  army,  and  engage  in  some  civil  pursuit  that 
holds  out  the  promise  of  greater,  and  more  immediate 
usefulness.  Tell  him  that  you  have  instructions  to  honor 
his  drafts  for  whatever  amount  may  be  necessary  to  start 
him  in  business,  and  that  it  is  my  earnest  wish  he  should 
consult  with  you  as  to  the  future,  and  regulate  his  conduct 
in  some  degree  by  your  advice.  You  know  how  to  do 


188  BERNARD     LILE. 

this  kindly  and  well,  and  I  trust  it  to  you.  Say  to  him 
that  I  shall  be  absent  for  a  considerable  period.  I  know 
not  how  long.  You  may  add  that  I  am  alone  now,  and 
that  Zerah  sleeps  in  the  old  church  yard  at ." 

With  difficulty  the  man  of  business  drove  back  the 
choking  sensation  he  felt  rising  in  his  throat  and  inquired, 
huskily, 

"  Is  there  anything  more  to  be  done  ?" 

"  Nothing  now.  I  will  hand  you  some  papers  at  break- 
fast, together  with  written  directions  where  to  find  me 
when  it  is  needful.  Good  night.'' 

The  banker  left  the  room,  and  the  strong  man  kneeling 
in  his  solitary  chamber,  sought  relief  from  the  wild  war 
of  his  own  rebellious  passions  in  earnest  and  fervent  suppli- 
cation at  the  foot  stool  of  the  Most  High.  There,  alone 
with  his  God,  new  hopes  sprang  into  existence,  and  hia 
soul  drank  in  the  beginning  of  the  promise. 

"  Behold,  I  create  new  heavens,  and  a  new  earth  ;  and 
the  former  shall  not  be  remembered,  nor  come  into  mind." 


BERNARD     LILB.  189 


CHAPTER    XI. 

"  If  thou  hast  crushed  a  flower, 

The  root  may  not  be  blighted ; 

If  thou  hast  quenched  a  lamp, 

Once  more  it  may  be  lighted. 

***** 
"  But  if  upon  the  troubled  sea 

Thou  cast  a  gem  unheeded ; 

Hope  not  that  wind  or  ware  will  bring 

The  treasure  back  when  needed." 

PAULINE  WINTER  knew  not  the  effect  her  words  had 
produced.  She  knew  she  had  given  pain,  but  from  that 
very  circumstance  she  extracted  hope,  since  it  indicated 
that  whatever  other  difficulties  she  might  have  to  over- 
come, she  would  not  be  required  to  combat,  the  sullen 
calm  of  passionless  despair.  She  was  neither  surprised 
nor  uneasy  at  his  absence  the  next  day,  and  she  made  no 
inquiries  into  the  cause  of  it.  But  when  another  and 
another  passed,  and  brought  no  tidings,  she  grew  restless 
and  fearful.  On  the  fourth  morning  a  letter  was  put  into 
her  hands  from  Philadelphia. 

"After  our  last  interview,"  it  ran,  " I  found  it  absolutely 
necessary  to  leave  New  York  at  once.  It  can  matter  little 
to  you  where  I  go,  or  what  fate  awaits  me ;  but  I  cannot 
find  it  in  my  heart  to  make  so  churlish  a  return  for  all  your 
kindness  as  to  set«out  upon  a  journey  of  years  without  a 
word  of  leave-taking.  In  the  busy  world  you  will  have  no 
leisure  to  think  of  one  who  has  crossed  your  path  for  a 
moment  only  to  sadden  it,  and  long  before  I  come  back 
again  you  will  have  forgotten  my  existence.  With  warm 
thanks  for  the  hours  not  unhappily  passed  in  your  society, 
and  still  wanner  wishes  for  your  welfare,  I  bid  you  adieu. 

"BERNARD  LELE." 


190  BERNARD     LILE. 

She  read  this  note  repeatedly  with  close  attention.  At 
one  time  she  thought  she  could  trace  in  it  evidences  of  a 
heart  not  altogether  untouched  by  the  arts  she  had  em- 
ployed to  win  it.  At  another  she  crushed  it  in  her  tiny 
palm  with  a  feeling  of  agonised  despair.  Then  again  she 
smoothed  the  crumpled  paper,  and  pressed  it  to  her  fevered 
lips.  Finally,  it  was  deposited  in  her  bosom,  with  the 
inward  resolution  to  write  to  him  as  soon  as  she  could 
extract  the  necessary  information  as  to  where  a  letter  would 
reach  him  from  Mons.  Evadne,  revealing  all  the  wild  fervor 
of  the  love  that  consumed  her,  and  begging  him  to  return 
if  he  would  not  have  the  stream  of  her  existence  dried  up 
at  the  fountain. 

In  the  meantime  Bernard  Lile  was  floating  down  the 
beautiful  Ohio,  towards  its  junction  with  the  turbid  Missis- 
sippi. •  On  the  western  borders  of  Texas  there  was  pressing 
need  for  the  bold  and  strong  to  protect  the  families  of  the 
settlers  from  the  constant  incursions  of  Indians  and  Mexi- 
cans. The  treaty  of  peace  and  limits  signed  by  Santa 
Anna  had,  in  a  short  time  thereafter,  been  declared  a 
nullity  by  Bustamente,  and  a  merciless  war  had  recom- 
menced, more  apparently  for  the  purpose  of  harassing 
and  annoying  the  Texans,  than  with  any  hope  of  ultimate 
subjugation.  Large  armies  were  no  longer  poured  upon 
her  territories,  but  from  Metamoras,  Reynosa,  Camargo, 
and  other  towns  along  the  Rio  Grande,  frequent  expedi- 
tions were  sent  secretly  and  suddenly  across  the  border, 
plundering  and  burning  detached  settlement^  small  towns 
and  villages,  and  then  rapidly  retreating  without  waiting 
to  try  the  issue  of  a  battle.  In  this  way  the  country  be- 
yond the  San  Antonio  had  been  completely  desolated. 
One  family  resided  at  Live  Oak  Point,  between  the  bays 
of  Aransas  and  Copano,  and  another  at  Lamar,  across  the 
bay  from  Live  Oak  Point.  With  these  exceptions  the 


BERNARD     LILE.  191 

wild  animals  were  the  only  inhabitants  of  the  vast  region 
stretching  away  from  the  San  Antonio  to  the  Rio  Grande. 
Even  along  the  former  river  the  settlements  were  few  and 
far  between.  Some  miles  below  the  point  where  the  road 
from  Lamar  to  Victoria  crosses  the  San  Antonio,  Tom 
Simpson  had  erected  his  cabin,  and  surrounded  it  with  a 
rude  palisade  of  logs.  On  the  eastern  side  it  was  pro- 
tected by  the  river  bottom,  whose  waters  almost  washed  its 
base.  From  every  other  quarter  the  approach  was  over  a 
level  prairie,  and  Simpson  had  too  much  confidence  in 
himself  and  his  rifle  to  doubt  his  ability  to  defend  it 
against  any  predatory  party,  while  the  river  bottom 
afforded  a  never-failing  means  of  escape  from  any  more 
considerable  force.  He  had  another  security  also  in  the 
absence  of  any  thing  to  tempt  the  cupidity  of  either  Mexi- 
cans or  Camanchejg.  Living  altogether  upon  the  preduce 
of  the  chase — raising  no  herds,  and  cultivating  no  crops, 
there  was  nothing  to  be  gained  by  disturbing  him  except 
rifle  bullets  directed  with  wonderful  accuracy  towards  the 
vitals  of  the  assailants.  He  was  widely  known  on  the 
border,  and  as  widely  feared  and  hated  by  his  country's 
enemies.  Many  a  scheme  had  been  laid  to  entrap  him 
without  success,  but  they  shrunk  from  an  open  assault 
upon  his  slight  fortress,  well  knowing  that  it  must  be 
attended  with  a  heavy  loss,  and  would  moreover  very  pro- 
bably result  in  failure.  One  evening  in  June  he  had 
ascended  to  the  roof  of  his  cabin  for  the  purpose  of  look- 
ing out  upon  the  prairie  to  mark  if  any  rising  smoke,  or 
other  sign,  indicated  the  neighborhood  of  an  enemy.  Two 
horsemen  were  approaching  from  the  direction  of  the  Vic- 
toria road. 

"  They  must  be  some  of  our  people,"  he  said,  after  ascer- 
taining that  they  were  certainly  alone.     "  No  two  men  in 


192  BERNARD     LILE. 

Mexico  would  undertake  to  enter  Tom  Simpson's  den,  if 
the  gate  was  wide  open  before  them." 

He  descended  deliberately,  and  drawing  the  block  from 
the  port-hole,  examined  the  new  comers  with  close  atten- 
tion. When  they  had  approached  within  thirty  yards,  he 
suddenly  threw  open  the  gate,  and,  with  a  shout  of  wild 
joy,  rush  out  to  meet  them. 

"  I  knew  it  would  be  so,"  he  said,  clasping  the  hand  of 
Lile,  and  wringing  it  again  and  again,  "  I  knew  we  should 
meet  on  the  border  once  more. " 

Cordially  and  kindly  Lile  returned  the  warm  greeting  of 
his  friend.  The  party  then  entered  the  enclosure,  and 
Simpson,  after  closing  and  barring  the  gate,  assisted  in 
removing  the  saddles  and  bridles  from  the  horses — shook 
down  a  quantity  of  hay  cut  from  the  long  grass  of  the 
prairie,  and  left  them  to  wander  at  will  within  the  palisades. 
To  questions  propounded  by  Simpson,  Bernard  Lile  said, 

"I  remembered  your  parting  words  on  the  beach  at 
Galveston,  and  made  my  way  at  once  to  the  West.  In 
Victoria,  I  fortunately  met  with  this  gentleman,  and  pre- 
vailed upon  him  to  guide  me  to  your  dwelling." 

Lile's  companion  was  no  stranger  to  Simpson  ;  who  now 
turned  to  him,  and  said  with  animation, 

"  And  let  me  tell  you,  Bill  Stokes,  that  you  have  done 
many  a  worse  day's  work.  I  shall  remember  this  as  long 
as  I  am  above  ground,  whenever  you  need  a  helping  hand. 
If  it  ever  happens  that  the  Mexicans  or  Camanches  light 
upon  your  cattle,  or  mustangs,  I'll  follow  the  trail  to  the 
Rio  Grande,  or  the  Rocky  Mountains,  but  what  I'll  have 
them  back." 

All  this  time  the  hunter  was  busily  engaged  in  the  duties 
of  hospitality.  The  fire  had  been  replenished,  and  a  plen- 
tiful supply  of  venison  was  sending  out  its  savoury  smell 
from  the  hearthstone.  The  cooking  utensils  were  few  and 


BERNARD     LILE.  193 

rude,  but  the  most  fastidious  epicure  would  not  have 
objected  to  the  flavor  of  the  repast.  When  it  was  ended, 
the  three  gathered  around  a  blazing  fire,  which  is  not 
uncomfortable  in  that  climate,  after  nightfall,  during  the 
hottest  seasons.  Many  questions  were  asked  and  answered 
on  either  side,  and  several  hours  of  the  night  thus  glided 
almost  imperceptibly  by. 

Something  outside  attracted  the  hunter's  attention.  He 
rose  and  stood  at  the  door  for  awhile  in  silence,  then  fasten- 
ing it  securely  with  two  heavy  bars,  he  inquired  in  a  low 
tone, 

"  Did  you  hear  that  ?" 

"Yes,"  answered  Stokes,  taking  down  his  rifle,  and 
bullet  pouch,  "  the  Camanches  are  about." 

"  I  heard  nothing,"  said  Lile,  "  but  the  hooting  of  an 
owl." 

"  It  was  a  Camanche,"  responded  Simpson,  "  as  certain 
as  a  gun  is  iron." 

Lile  imitated  the  example  of  his  companions,  and  armed 
himself  without  delay ;  observing,  however,  as  he  did  so, 

"  I  am  afraid  I  have  become  a  little  rusty.  Tell  me  why 
you  are  so  certain  that  sound  was  made  by  a  human  being 
at  all — if  so,  why  by  an  Indian,  and,  particularly,  why  by 
a  Camanche  ?  for  I  am  told  there  are  many  roving  tribes 
in  this  vicinity." 

"  Listen,"  said  Simpson,  "  do  you  hear  it  now  ?" 

"Yes." 

"  Do  you  hear  the  echo  from  the  river  ?" 

"Yes." 

"Well,  the  human  voice  has  an  echo,  but  there  is  none 
to  the  hoot  of  an  owl.  Besides,  that  sound  comes  directly 
from  the  west.  The  nearest  timber  in  that  direction  is  a 
little  mott  two  miles  off.  I  never  heard  of  an  owl's  light- 
ing in  the  grass  to  pitch  his  infernal  ugly  tune.  It  is  not 

17 


194:  BEENABD     LILE. 

a  Mexican,  for  they  know  that  five  thousand  Greasers 
couldn't  catch  me  at  night,  with  the  river  bottom  in  ten 
feet  of  my  fence.  It  is  not  a  Tonkawa,  or  Caroncahua, 
because  I  am  on  friendly  terms  with  them,  and  they  would 
have  had'  more  sense,  too,  than  to  agree  on  a  signal  they 
know  I  understand.  It  is  a  Camanche  sure,  and  there  are 
not  less  than  fifty  to  back  him.  They  will  waste  a  full  half 
hour,  before  they  begin  the  attack,  in  prying  around  to 
find  out  whether  I'm  asleep  or  awake.  The  first  notice 
they  git  will  be  apt  to  be  a  bullet  through  the  short  ribs." 

So  saying,  he  led  the  way  to  the  top  of  the  house,  the 
roof  of  which  was  nearly  flat,  while  the  outside  logs,  run- 
ning several  feet  above  it,  formed  an  excellent  breastwork 
against  small  arms  of  any  description.  The  three  sides  of 
the  house,  commanding  a  view  of  the  prairie,  were  occupied 
by  the  defenders  ;  that  next  the  river  being  left  unguarded, 
as  no  danger  was  apprehended  from  that  quarter.  The 
moon  was  shining  brightly,  and  from  the  height  where  they 
were  stationed,  everything  was  visible  that  elevated  itself 
above  the  waving  grass.  Eyes  less  practiced  than  those 
now  watching  it,  would  soon  have  discovered  that  it  was 
agitated  by  something  more  than  the  light  breeze  coming 
up  from  the  gulf;  but  the  exact  locality  of  the  moving 
objects  was  too  uncertain  to  justify  the  risk  of  a  shot. 
After  a  while,  Lile  thought  he  detected  a  slight  scraping 
noise  against  the  palisades  on  the  side  of  the  house  where 
he  was  stationed,  and  in  a  few  seconds  the  head  and 
shoulders  of  an  Indian  rose  slowly  above  them.  Raising 
his  rifle  with  a  quick  aim,  he  fired  before  half  the  body  of 
the  savage  was  exposed.  The  Indian  sank  down,  still 
clinging  with  his  hands  to  the  top  of  the  split  logs.  In 
this  way  he  hung  for  a  brief  space,  when  his  hold  relaxed, 
and  with  a  deep  groan  he  fell  heavily  to  the  ground. 


BERNARD     LILE.  195 

"Keep  close,"  shouted  Simpson,  "they  know  they  are 
discovered  now,  and  a  flight  of  arrows  will  come  next." 

The  words  were  hardly  spoken  before  thirty  or  forty 
arrows  stuck  in  the  log  breastwork,  or  whistled  over  the 
heads  of  its  defenders.  At  the  same  instant  a  wild  yell 
rang  over  the  prairie,  and  a  rush  was  made  upon  the  de- 
fences from  three  sides  at  once.  The  Indians,  beyond 
doubt,  supposed  Simpson  to  be  alone,  and  calculated  that 
by  making  a  rush  from  several  points  at  the  same  time  his 
attention  would  be  distracted,  so  that  they  could  easily 
effect  an  entrance  by  catching  the  tops  of  the  palisades 
with  their  lassos,  and  thus  dragging  themselves  up. 
Ignorant  of  his  interior  defences,  they  imagined  if  they 
could  once  succeed  in  getting  inside,  his  fate  was  sealed. 
They  were  grievously  surprised  when,  mounting  almost  at 
the  same  moment,  from  different  points,  three  rifle  shots 
hurled  as  many  assailants  lifeless  to  the  earth ;  but  other 
lassos  were  thrown,  and  other  warriors  clambered  up. 
Lile,  who  was  armed  with  two  of  Colt's  revolvers,  in  addi- 
tion to  his  riflev  found  no  difficulty  in  clearing  his  side  as 
rapidly  as  they  showed  themselves  above  the  timber,  and 
also  in  materially  assisting  Stokes,  who  was  next  to  him. 
Simpson  had  shot  down  three  of  his  enemies  in  quick  suc- 
cession, but  as  he  was  ramming  home  a  fourth  bullet,  two 
Indians  scrambled  up  together,  eight  or  ten  feet  apart. 
The  death  dealing  rifle  pronounced  the  doom  of  one  of 
them,  as  he  straddled  the  palisades,  and,  falling  forward, 
he  was  caught  upon  the  sharp  points,  and  suspended  there 
a  ghastly  spectacle,  in  the  clear  moonlight,  to  his  kindred 
and  tribe  around.  The  other  succeeded  in  dropping  within 
unhurt. 

K  "You  have  got  in  my  good  fellow,"  muttered  Simpson, 
x"let  us  see  how  you  are  to  get  out." 

Then  turning  to  his  companions,  he  said. 


196  BERNARD     LILE. 

"  Do  the  best  you  can  above  here,  while  I  take  care  of 
that  fellow  below." 

He  was  half  way  down  the  ladder  before  the  words  were 
fairly  spoken.  The  Indian  as  soon  as  he  touched  the 
ground  had  run  to  the  gate  for  the  purpose  of  throwing 
it  open,  and  in  expectation  of  such  a  movement,  the  warriors 
had  suspended  their  attacks,  and  were  clustering  to  that 
point  to  take  instant  advantage  of  the  daring  manoeuvre. 
This  was  a  contingency  Tom  Simpson  had  foreseen  and 
provided  against  long  ago,  and  the  savage,  to  his  dismay, 
found  that  the  heavy  bars  securing  the  gate  were  kept  in 
their  places  by  an  iron  chain  and  rings,  which  in  its  turn 
was  fastened  by  an  enormous  padlock.  While  he  was 
looking  about  for  something  to  shiver  the  lock,  the  hunter 
descended  to  the  ground  floor  of  his  cabin  and  bounded 
into  the  yard.  With  equal  weapons  the  contest  must  have 
resulted  in  a  victory  to  the  white  man.  Tom  Simpson 
made  no  idle  boast  when  he  asserted  that  no  two  Indians 
that  ever  walked  the  forest  were  a  match  for  him  in  a  hand 
to  hand  encounter.  Apart  from  his  superior  skill  and 
strength,  he  had  a  terrible  advantage  in  the  long  "Arkansas 
tooth  pick,"  that  gleamed  in  his  brawny  hand.  The  butcher 
knife  of  the  savage  was  turned  aside  with  scarcely  an  effort, 
and  the  bubbling  blood  fringed  with  a  light  edging  of  foam 
covered  the  hilt  of  the  white  man's  weapon  before  it  was 
half  withdrawn  from  the  naked  body.  Dragging  an  axe 
from  a  recess  where  it  was  hidden,  he  ran  around  the  inte- 
rior of  the' palisades,  severing  every  lasso  that  was  suspended 
to  them.  This  done  he  again  ascended  to  the  roof.  The 
enemy  had  entirely  disappeared.  From  the  long  delay  in 
opening  the  gate  they  readily  guessed  the  fate  of  their  com- 
rade, and  disheartened  by  the  heavy  losses  they  had  sustained 
they  had  crawled  off  through  the  grass.  It  was  scarcely 
more  than  a  half  hour  later  when  a  dark  line  was  seen  to 


BERNAKD     LILE.  197 

emerge  from  the  "  mott"  of  timber  to  the  west  and  move 
rapidly  northward. 

"  There  they  go,"  said  Simpson.  "  Their  horses  were 
hidden  in  that  clump  of  trees,  and  now  they  are  off  with 
a  new  grudge  against  me,  and  a  new  caution  to  be  par- 
ticular in  indulging  it." 

"We  can  go  below,"  he  continued.  "Is  either  of  you 
hurt  ?" 

"  I've  got  an  arrow  in  my  shoulder,"  replied  Stokes, 
"  but  it  don't  hurt  much,  and  I  don't  think  the  bone  is 
touched." 

A  blaze  was  soon  kindled,  and  Lile  skilfully  extracted 
the  arrow,  and  bandaged  the  wound.  Picking  up  the 
feathered  missile  he  examined  it  attentively,  remarking, 

"  This  must  have  been  sent  by  a  feeble  hand,  or  it  would 
have  hurt  more  sorely." 

"  It  struck  the  log,"  answered  Stokes,  "  and  deadened 
itself  scraping  through  the  bark.  D — n  'em,  they  don't 
shoot  them  things  for  fun.  They  shot  my  brother  on  the 
San  Marcos,  and  when  I  found  him  the  head  was  sticking 
out  at  his  back,  and  the  feather  was  jam  up  against  his 
breast. " 

"  You  have  paid  the  debt  with  interest  to-night." 

"  I  paid  it  long  ago  ;  but  I  shall  keep  on  paying  it  when- 
ever I  have  a  chance.  It's  different  from  any  other  debt 
I  ever  owed.  The  more  it's  paid,  the  better  a  feller  feels. 
I  left  the  States  between  two  days  to  keep  from  settling  a 
few  little  contracts  I  had  made  in  Mississippi,  but  no  man 
can  say  I  ever  dodged  when  there  was  an  opening  for  a 
settlement  with  either  Mexicans  or  Camanches. " 

Whatever  opinion  Lile  may  have  formed  of  the  morals 
of  his  new  acquaintance  he  kept  it  to  himself,  and  the  party 
sought  the  repose  they  so  much  needed.  When  morning 
came,  and  they. had  partaken  of  a  meal  prepared  with  their 


198  BERNARD     LILE. 

own  hands,  Stokes  indicated  his  purpose  of  returning  to 
Victoria.  His  wound  he  treated  as  a  mere  scratch,  whose 
chief  inconvenience  would  be  that  he  would  be  compelled 
"  to  tell  every  feller"  he  met,  how  the  hurt  was  received. 
With  Simpson's  aid  his  horse  was  caparisoned,  and  he  rode 
away  whistling  "  old  Rosin  the  beau." 

As  soon  as  he  was  out  of  hearing,  Simpson  said, 

"  There's  a  pretty  fair  specimen,  captain,  of  "the  wild 
characters  who  have  come  out  among  us  since  the  revolu- 
tion. ,  He  will  fight  from  sun-up  to  sun-down  by  your  side 
for  the  love  of  the  thing — will  ride  ten  miles  any  day  to  do 
'you  a  favor — will  cling  to  you  through  the  worst  times,  and 
could  not  be  bought  by  all  the  gold  of  Mexico  to  betray, 
you.  Yet,  as  he  told  you,  he  once  run  away  to  avoid 
the  payment  of  his  honest  debts.  To-day  he  would  kill  a 
Mexican  without  scruple  for  his  blanket,  or  a  Camanche 
for  his  horse,  and  to-morrow,  if  he  could  find  whiskey 
enough  to  get  half  drunk,  he  would  practice  carving  with 
his  bowie  knife  on  the  body  of  his  best  friend  for  the 
slightest  offence.  I  do  not  like  this  new  stock  half  so  well 
as  the  old,  and  I  have  been  thinking  of  pulling  up  stakes, 
and  squatting  way  out  on  the  San  Saba." 

"I  will  go  with  you,"  answered  Lile,  "for  I  love  not 
such  characters  any  better  than  you  do  :  though  they  are 
a  hundred  times  better  than  the  smooth  silken  villains  of 
cities,  who  rob  with  professions  of  friendship,  and  murder 
character  and  happiness  with  the  blandest  of  smiles. 

"Let  us  go  within,"  he  continued,  "and  talk  over  our 
plans  deliberately.  I  have  brought  two  steeds  of  different 
mettle  from  the  sorry  jades  we  rode  over  the  prairie  after 
the  massacre  of  Goliad,  and  I  have  also  brought  some  new 
weapons  which  in  our  hands  will  reduce  an  odds  of  ten  to 
one  against  us  to  an  equality. " 

"  By  the  Lord,"  put  in  Simpson,  "  it  strikes  me  that 


BERNARD     LILE.  199 

wouldn't  make  much  more  than  a  fair  fight  any  way.  We 
have  been  in  worse  scrapes  than  that,  and  got  out  of  them 
without  losing  a  hair." 

"  Yes,  it  was  worse  at  Bexar  ;  and  a  great  deal  worse  at 
the  ford  of  San  Antonio.  But  we  had  stone  houses  to 
shelter  us  at  the  first,  and  trees  and  swampy  ground  at  the 
last.  We  may  be  caught  some  day  without  these  advan- 
tages, and  in  that  case  we  must  rely  upon  superior  arms  to 
make  up  the  loss." 

The  horses  were  first  examined.  Simpson  had  been  a 
bold  rider  in  his  youth,  and  though  long  accustomed  to 
trust  to  his  own  limbs  in  preference  to  any  four  footed 
animal,  he  had  not  forgottten  his  early  training,  and  pointed 
out  with  unconcealed  satisfaction  the  excellent  points  of 
each  steed  in  turn.  Full  sixteen  hands  high,  broad  boned, 
and  strong  ;  they  had  been  selected  from  the  best  hunting 
stock  of  England,  and  were  unmatched  on  the  American 
continent  for  speed  and  endurance. 

"  They'll  do  certain,"  ejaculated  the  hunter.  "  If  them 
weapons  you  were  talking  about,  are  half  as  good,  we  can 
ride  to  the  Pacific  ocean  without  finding  men  enough  to 
stop  us." 

They  entered  the  cabin,  and  Lile  drew  from  the  holsters 
the  pair  of  revolvers  he  had  brought  for  Simpson.  They 
were  "  five  shooters,"  of  the  calibre  manufactured  at  that 
day ;  not  so  large  or  so  deadly  as  the  cavalry  holster  which 
came  in  use  during  the  Mexican  war,  but  more  convenient, 
from  the  facility  of  carrying  it  in  a  belt  when  the  horseman 
has  dismounted.  The  present  pistol  doubtless  surpasses  it 
in  perfection  of  workmanship  and  material,  but  it  is  difficult 
to  find  an  old  "  ranger  "  who  believes  in  the  possibility  of 
any  improvement  to  the  original  arm. 

"Our  boys,"  said  Simpson,  "are  beginning  to  use  these 
things  out  here,  and  they  say  there's  nothing  like  them ; 


200  BERNARD     LILE. 

but  for  my  part  I  have  always  thought  they  was  intended 
for  weakly  people.  When  I  get  close  enough  to  use  a 
pistol,  a  good  knife  does  the  business  quicker  and  more 
certain." 

"  Judging  this  pistol  by  such  as  you  have  known,  your 
conclusion  is  a  natural  one.  But,  my  good  friend,  this 
short  weapon,  in  a  hand  as  firm  as  yours,  will  kill  at  forty 
yards  with  as  much  certainty  as  your  rifle ;  and  that  is  a 
good  deal  too  far  off  to  use  a  knife  effectively." 

Simpson  turned  it  in  his  hand  and  eyed  it  incredulously. 

"I  see,"  continued  Lile,  "you  must  have  a  practical 
lesson.  Bring  out  that  puncheon,  and  rub  a  little  wet 
powder  on  it  until  you  make  a  mark  half  the  size  of  your 
hand." 

When  this  was  done,  he  placed  it  against  the  side  of  the 
palisades,  stepped  off  forty  yards,  and  raising  the  pistol 
fired  the  five  charges  in  quick  succession  without  lowering 
his  hand. 

"Now  look  where  those  balls  have  struck." 

" Every  bullet's  in  the  black,"  was  the  response,  "and 
by  the  living  God  they  have  gone  through  two  inches  of 
solid  timber,  and  buried  themselves  in  the  logs." 

"  Well,  would  that  kill  a  man  ?" 

"  Kill  a  man  !     It  would  kill  the  devil.     Let  me  try  it. " 

His  experiments  at  first  were  rather  awkward  ;  but  he 
was  a  willing  scholar,  and  in  the  course  of  that  day  and 
the  next  he  became  so  great  a  proficient  that  it  would  have 
been  as  he  expressed  it,  "  dangerous  for  anything  bigger 
than  a  snow  bird  to  show  itself  before  the  sights." 

His  lessons  did  not  end  here.  He  was  next  taught  the 
art  of  firing  from  horseback.  This  was  continued  until  he 
was  able  to  send  a  bullet  through  a  tin  cup  at  full  speed. " 

"  You  need  nothing  now  but  a  little  more  practice,"  said 


BERNARD     LILE.  201 

his  instructor ;  "  when  I  have  taught  you  the  broadsword 
exercise  we  will  be  prepared  for  any  emergency." 

"I  don't  mind  learning,"  he  replied,  "but  I  can't  see 
what  use  a  fellow  can  have  for  any  thing  more  than  a  rifle, 
a  five-shooter,  and  a  bowie." 

"  So  you  thought  a  few  days  ago -about  the  pistol.  A 
bowie  knife  in  your  hand  would  be  a  poor  weapon  against 
a  good  sabre  in  mine." 

"  I  found  out  a  good  while  since  that  a  knife  in  my  hand 
was  a  poor  weapon  against  you  any  way ;  but  everybody 
ain't  you ;  and  if  there  is  any  other  living  thing  that  can 
git  clear  of  Tom  Simpson's  knife,  I'd  like  to  see  it." 

"  And  so  would  I.  Still  there  may  be  occasions  when 
the  broadsword  would  serve  a  better  purpose." 

Under  a  preceptor  who  never  had  his  equal  Simpson's 
progress  was  rapid  and  satisfactory.  Before  a  month  went 
by  he  lost  much  of  the  awe  with  which  he  had  heretofore 
regarded  his  companion.  He  saw  that  the  wonderful 
dexterity,  so  incomprehensible  at  first,. was  the  result  of 
long,  and  careful  training,  and  began  to  understand  the 
extraordinary  development  of  which  the  physical  man  is 
capable  when  diet  and  exercise  are  regulated  by  sound 
judgment  and  unremitting  watchfulness. 

Providing  themselves  with  pack-mules  for  the  transpor- 
tation of  articles  of  absolute  necessity,  and  engaging  two 
of  the  settlers  to  assist  them  in  the  erection  of  their  forti- 
fication, they  set  out  early  in  September  for  their  contem- 
plated residence  on  the  lonely  waters  of  the  San  Saba. 
A  few  desperate  conflicts  with  the  wild  Indians  in  that 
vicinity ;  the  terrible  rapidity  and  accuracy  with  which 
Colt's  revolvers  carried  death  into  the  ranks  of  the  naked 
savages ;  the  size,  speed,  and  bottom  of  their  horses,  soon 
caused  them  to  be  regarded  with  superstitious  dread,  and 
the  roving  bands  continually  wandering  over  that  unin- 


202  BERNARD     LILE. 

habited  region,  would  diverge  far  from  the  direct  path  to 
avoid  the  palisaded  cabin  of  the  white  hunters. 

"  It  is  best  to  have  no  intercourse  with  them,"  said  Lile 
to  his  companion;  "neither  to  sell  them  any  thing  or  pur- 
chase from  them.  In  addition  to  affording  a  chance  for 
treachery,  any  familiarity  would  lessen  their  terrors,  and 
teach  them  we  are  as  vulnerable  as  other  men.  The  mere 
fact  that  we  will  not  trade  with,  and  cheat  them,  from 
being  a  cause  of  wonder,  has  become  a  cause  of  reverence. 
The  white  man's  wants  have  hitherto  appeared  to  them 
insatiable,  and  they  have  unfortunately  not  been  accus- 
tomed in  their  dealings  to  scrupulous  honesty  and  fairness. 
They  naturally  conclude  that  those  who  want  nothing,  are 
either  of  a  different  race,  or  that  they  are  supplied  by  some 
supernatural  agency.  Already  they  avoid  our  dwelling ;  in 
another  year  they  will  abandon  the  hunting  grounds  we 
frequent,  and  the  paths  we  travel." 

As  he  predicted,  so  it  turned  out.  Alone  in  the  wilder- 
ness, with  thousands  of  armed  foemen  around  them,  they 
were  as  safe,  and  as  free  from  molestation  as  if  girded  by 
the  bayonets  of  an  army.  Not  only  so,  the  women  and 
children  along  the  border  slept  the  sounder  from  the  out- 
post they  had  established.  In  their  annual  visits  to 
Austin  they  had  become  familiar  with  all  the  daring  spirits 
continually  flocking  to  the  West.  To  these  they  were  often 
enabled  to  impart  information  that  served  to  defeat  a  medi- 
tated incursion,  and  not  unfrequently  the  dread  of  their 
interference  had  sent  a  predatory  party  to  the  right  about 
which  would  otherwise  have  inflicted  much  suffering  on 
-the  inhabitants.  It  is  not  the  purpose  of  this  history  to 
trace  out  the  adventures  that  checkered  their  existence. 
Unconsciously  they  were  fitting  themselves  to  become  par- 
ticipants in  events  whose  coming  was  as  yet  hidden  in  the 
womb  of  the  future.  Silently  but  anxiously  the  eye  of  the 


BEBNAED     LILE.  203 

great  republic  was  resting  on  its  infant  daughter.  The 
petty  brawls  of  the  politicians  went  on  unchecked  and 
unheeded,  because  as  yet  no  actual  necessity  existed  for 
gathering  the  young  thing  beneath  its  parent  wing.  The 
panther  will  watch  its  young  at  play  with  half  closed  lids 
and  seeming  indifference.  It  may  tumble  from  a  limb,  or 
be  rudely  bitten  by  its  mate,  and  come  limping  to  her  side, 
and  she  heeds  it  not.  But  let  what  she  fears  as  a  real 
danger  approach — in  an  instant  all  the  deadly  energy  of 
the  animal  is  aroused;  with  a  fierce  bound  she  springs 
between  it  and  the  threatened  attack,  and  greets  the  in- 
truder with  the  sharp  tusk,  and  the  sharper  claw.  In  like 
manner  the  American  nation  had  watched  the  struggles 
and  difficulties  of  Texas.  Small  statesmen  wearied  the 
public  ear  with  harangues  on  the  subject  of  liberty  gene- 
rally, and  Texan  annexation  particularly,  but  a  drunken 
shout  at  a  cross  roads  meeting,  was  about  the  most  active 
demonstration  that  rewarded  their  noisy  patriotism.  Se- 
cure in  their  own  immutable  resolves  the  people  slumbered, 
or  appeared  to  slumber,  while  the  demagogues  grew  hoarse 
with  bawling.  The  time  had  not  yet  come.  No  actual 
danger  was  impending.  Years  rolled  on,  and  Texas  had 
demonstrated  her  ability  to  repel  any  invasion  Mexico 
might  project ;  but  troubles  of  another  kind  had  overtaken 
her.-  The  debts  of  her  revolutionary  struggle,  and  those 
that  had  since  accumulated,  were  pressing  like  an  incubus 
upon  her  prosperity.  The  salaries  of  her  public  officers 
were  paid  in  a  currency  depreciated  to  one-fifth  of  its  nomi- 
nal value.  Her  soldiers  were  altogether  unpaid,  and  her 
seamen  not  much  better  provided  for.  In  pursuance  of 
an  unscrupulous  policy  never  changed,  and  always  selfish, 
England  was  preparing  to  take  advantage  of  her  embar- 
rassment, and  reduce  her  people  to  a  state  not  far  removed 
from  vassalage.  Then  it  was  that  the  sleeping  republic 


204:  BERNARD     LILE. 

waked  up.  With  the  bound  of  the  panther  she-  sprung 
between  her  offspring  and  the  impending  danger.  A  bold 
man  then  stood  at  the  helm  of  state.  A  bold,  a  true,  and 
a  sagacious  one,  though  libelled  by  pensioned  presses,  and 
maligned  by  mercenary  declaimers.  The  throbbings  of 
the  great  heart  of  the  nation  met  a  kindred  throb  in  his 
own,  and  John  Tyler  signed  the  treaty  of  annexation.  The 
thousand  insects  who  had  been  buzzing  about  annexation 
for  years,  without  exciting  the  most  mercurial  pulse, 
hugged  to  their  little  bosoms  the  delusive  phantasy,  that 
they  had  aided  in  swelling  the  deep  flood  that  now  swept 
over  the  land ;  and  creeping  things  to  this  day  exult  in  the 
belief,  that  their  arguments,  their  eloquence,  and  their 
sagacity  overwhelmed  the  matchless  orator,  and  the  incor- 
ruptible patriot  who  unfortunately  for  himself  and  his 
country,  breasted  a  current  no  human  strength  could  stem. 
Such  things,  never  understood,  and  never  can,  that  Henry 
Clay  was  defeated  solely  and  entirely  because,  with  the 
uncalculating  fondness  of  a  mother  for  its  spoiled  and 
favorite  child,  the  United  States  were  too  deeply  attached 
to  Texas  to  estimate  correctly  its  danger,  or  listen  to  the 
reasoning  that  told  them  they  were  alarmed  too  much. 
On  such  occasions,  the  mother  will  throw  off  for  the  mo- 
ment the  authority  of  the  husband  who  has  loved  and 
cherished  her  in  sickness  and  in  health ;  and  a  people  will 
discard  in  like  manner  the  statesman  whose  counsels  have 
been  to  them  as  a  pillar  of  cloud  by  day,  and  of  fire  by 
night.  Neither  are  to  be  blamed ;  and  the  historian  who 
records  the  diversity,  if  true  to  his  high  mission,  will  refuse 
to  color  it  on  the  one  side  or  on  the  other,  save  by  a  falling 
tear. 

To  the  cabin  of  the  hunters,  soon  afterwards,  came 
tidings  of  war  on  a  grand  scale.  War  for  their  native  and 
adopted  countries.  The  day's  hunt  was  over,  and  seated 


BEENARD     LILE.  205 

ou  a  bear  skin  by  the  blazing  fire,  they  were  busy  with 
their  own  thoughts. »  Lile  was  the  first  to  speak. 

"  What  say  you,  Tom  ?  Ten  years  have  gone  since  we 
stepped  to  the  side  of  Milam,  on  the  plain  before  San 
Antonio ;  but  these  sinews,"  he  continued,  extending  an 
arm  on  which  the  muscles  rose  in  cords  as  large  AS  a  cable 
rope,  "  are  as  strong  as  then,  and  as  capable  of  rendering 
effective  service  beneath  the  starred  and  striped  banner,  as 
under  the  single  star." 

"I  have  been  thinking  over  it  all,  captain;"  replied 
Simpson,  who  still  adhered,  with  unchanging  pertinacity  to 
the  title  he  had  bestowed  upon  his  companion  on  the 
banks  of  the  Mississippi.  "  And  just  now  I  saw,  as  plain 
as  I  see  you,  the  wounded  boys  lying  on  their  bloody 
blankets  in  the  Mission  church.  I  heard  again  their  feeble 
voices  bidding  us  take  care  of  ourselves ;  and  felt  once 
more  the  soft  cold  cheeks  that  my  lips  pressed  on  the 
death  couch.  When  that  passed  off,  another  picture  took 
its  place.  It  was  the  cold-blooded,  cowardly  massacre  of 
Fannin  and  his  men.  I  can  walk  blindfolded  to  the  very 
spot  where  they  fell  on  the  plain  of  Labahia.  I  know  the 
exact  color  of  the  bark  on  the  two  trees  where  you  and  I 
were  hid.  The  whole  scene  is  before  me — the  unsuspecting 
victims — the  levelled  muskets — the  smoke  curling  slowly, 
and  sullenly  away,  as  if  it  wanted  to  hide  the  deed  from 
heaven.  The  infernal  shout  as  the  murderers  rushed  up  to 
finish  their  hellish  work — the  dying  groans,  and  then  the 
dead  silence  that  prevailed  about  the  butchered  and  mangled 
mass,  it's  all  present  to  me  now,  and  I  don't  feel  the  easier 
for  having  thought  of  it  so  little  of  late." 

"  They  were  dark  and  bloody  deeds,  certainly,  but  there 
was  also  a  bloody  atonement.  It  is  not  vengeance  for  the 
past,  but  security  and  liberty  for  the  future,  that  impels  me 

18 


206  BERNARD     LILE. 

to  take  part  in  the  war  that  will  soon  be  carried  to  the 
heart  of  Mexico." 

"  It  is  nothing  to  me  what  reasons  the  President  and 
Congress  may  give  for  declaring  war.  They  know  more 
about  it  than  I  do,  and  I  am  willing  to  go  whenever  and 
wherever  a  good  rifle  and  a  strong  arm  are  needed ;  but  I 
am  not  at  all  sorry  that,  in  serving  my  country,  I  shall  also 
have  a  chance  to  pay  a  bloody  debt,  with  bloody  interest." 

"  Will  you  never  get  through  paying  that  debt,  Tom  ?" 

"Never!  Never!"  was  the  reply,  in  a  tone  so  fixed, 
and  so  determined,  that  his  friend  knew  it  was  useless  to 
press  him  further.  He  thought  a  moment  before  he 
continued. 

"  We  will  go  together,  at  all  events ;  no  matter  what 
may  be  our  motives." 

"  Of  course  we  will  go  together,  and  stay  together,  until 
one  or  the  other  is  under  the  ground.  As  for  our  motives, 
I  take  it,  the  only  difference  will  be,  that  every  time  I  send 
a  bullet  through  a  Greaser,  I  shall  think  of  the  Mission  and 
of  Groliad,  while  you  may  only  remember  that  tyranny  has 
one  tool  less." 

The  war  had  not  yet  been  declared,  but  every  man  on 
the  border  knew  it  must  come;  and  Lile  and  Simpson 
speedily  prepared  to  abandon  their  solitary  fortress  in  the 
wilderness,  for  the  canvass  streets,  and  regular  duties  of  an 
armed  encampment.  It  was  not  without  sorrowing  hearts 
they  turned  their  footsteps  for  the  last  time  from  the  rude 
.  logs  that  had  sheltered  them  so  well.  That  humble  cabin 
was  the  only  home  they  knew,  and  they  went  forth  from  its 
portal  with  a  conviction  that,  in  the  wide  world  before 
them,  there  was  not  another  roof-tree  which  would  not  be 
viewed  with  indifference,  or  recal  some  memory  that  was 
painful. 

Before  entering  upon  the  stirring  scenes  of  the  Mexican 


BEENABD     LILE.  207 

war,  we  must  return  to  one  who  has  stood  out  too  promi- 
nently on  these  pages,  to  be  unceremoniously  dismissed. 
Pauline  Winter  sought  Monsieur  Evadne.  That  gentle- 
man chose  to  be  in  profound  ignorance  of  the  movements 
of  his  principal.  With  the  never  failing  politeness  of  a 
Frenchman,  he  feelingly  regretted  his  utter  inability  to 
furnish  the  information  she  sought,  and  whether  she  be- 
lieved or  doubted  him,  she  was  compelled  to  put  on  the 
semblance  of  content.  His  parting  bow  was  made  with 
his  hand  on  his  heart,  accompanied  with  an  assurance,  that 
he  would  ransack  the  world  to  gratify  a  lady  of  such  ex-* 
quisite  loveliness.  . 

"  It  is  no  great  matter,"  she  said,  with  as  much  com- 
posure as  she  could  command.  "  I  borrowed  a  miniature 
from  him  for  the  purpose  of  having  it  copied.  In  the 
hurry  of  his  departure  he  has  forgotten  the  original,  and  I 
wished  to  return  it  to  him." 

"  If  madame  would  be  so  good  as  to  trust  it  in  my 
keeping,  I  do  not  doubt  but  that  I  shall  have  an  oppor- 
tunity of  returning  it  to  the  owner. " 

"Pardon  me;  I  believe  I  will  retain  it.  I  know  h% 
values  it  highly.  As  you  know  not  where  he  is,  I  may  as 
readily  be  able  to  restore  it  as  yourself." 

"  The  correctness  of  madame's  judgment  is  inquestiona- 
ble  ;  but  he  has  business  with  me,  and  must  write  soon." 

"In  that  case,  call  on  me,  and  I  will  hand  you  the 
packet.  Good  morning." 

The  lady  disappeared  before  the  Frenchman  had  re- 
covered from  the  low  bow  which  acknowledged  her  adieu. 

The  man  of  business,  with  all  his  shrewdness,  had  been 
outwitted  by  the  shrewder  tactics  of  the  woman  in  love. 
He  had  never  seen  a  miniature  ia  the  possession  of  Bernard 
Lile,  except  an  extraordinary  likeness  of  Zerah,  which  was 
worn  habitually  in  his  bosom.  Mrs.  Winter  had  also 


208  BERNARD     LILE. 

caught  a  glimpse  of  that  miniature  on  a  former  occasion 
and  it  suggested  her  present  artifice. 

Turning  from  the  banker's  door,  she  sought  the  studio 
of  an  artist,  and  directed  him  to  paint  a  miniature  of 
herself,  with  as  little  delay  as  was  compatible  with  perfect 
execution.  Some  days  later,  when  it  was  completed  to 
her  satisfaction,  she  sat  down  and  wrote. 

"  I  know  not  in  what  light  you  will  regard  the  step  I 
have  taken,  for  a  wild  fire  is  running  through  my  veins, 
that  mocks  at  connected  thought.  That  I  loved  you,  you 
knew,  and  that  you  fled  from  me,  as  you  thought,  in  mercy, 
I  will  not  question.  But,  Bernard  Lile,  there  was  no 
mercy  in  the  dark  tortures  that  desertion  has  inflicted. 
Better  to  be  an  outcast,  shunned  by  those  who  would  now 
go  into  ecstacies  at  a  passing  notice,  and  reviled  by  those 
who  are  now  fawning  around  me  with  sickening  adulation. 
Better  to  bear  the  world's  sneers,  the  stings  of  poverty, 
and  the  loss  of  self-respect,  for  an  age  beyond  that  of  the 
Psalmist,  than  endure  for  a  single  hour  the  gnawing  agony 
'of  a  heart  that  has  given  away  its  all,  and  met  with  no 
return.  Will  you  answer,  that  I  have  written  my  own 
doom,  and  must  abide  it.  That  you  shunned  me  from  the 
first — that  I  am  bound  to  another  by  ties — hateful  ties — 
which  the  laws  of  man  have  foolishly  undertaken  to  declare 
everlasting,  and  which  ought  to  have  preserved  me  from  a 
danger  that  came  not  without  warning,  and  remained  not 
uninvited.  All  this,  and  more,  I  have  told  myself.  In 
the  silent  watches  of  the  night  I  have  reasoned  and  strug- 
gled, until  a  thick  mist  gathered  about  my  faculties,  and  I 
could  see  nothing  through  its  gloomy  drapery.  Yet  the 
heart  beat  on.  Love  still  informed  and  animated  its  every 
pulse.  The  wrong  and  the  folly  that  invited  his  coming 
were  forgotten,  but  his  presence  was  acknowledged, 
cherished,  clung  to  ;  and  even  the  delirious  madness  shed 


BERNARD     LILE.  209 

from  his  fiery  wing,  was  dearer  than  the  cold  joys  the 
calm  and  the  passionless  have  miscalled  raptures.  As  you 
ought  to  know,  and  do  know,  love  is  not  a  matter  of  taste 
and  judgment,  like  the  purchase  of  a  carriage,  or  the  fitting 
up  a  new  establishment.  It  comes  without  reason,  remains 
against  reason,  dreads  no  barriers,  and  shrinks  from  the 
presence  of  no  restraints.  Upon  you  has  been  lavished 
the  whole  wealth  of  my  affection.  To  you  it  pleads  for 
toleration,  if  it  may  not  hope  for  a  warmer  return.  Come 
back,  and  take  me  with  you  to  the  world's  limit,  if  you 
choose.  Speak  to  me  gently  and  kindly — let  me  pillow 
my  head  upon  your  bosom,  and  feel  that  resting  place  is 
secured  to  it,  and  I  will  ask  for  nothing  more.  I  do  not 
promise  to  make  you  happy,  but  I  beg,  entreat,  implore  you 
to  render  me  so. 

"  I  never  professed  any  attachment  to  Mr.  Winter.  He 
sought  it  not.  He  was  satisfied  with  formal  observances, 
and  duties ;  and  I  lived  on  ignorant  of  passion,  and  con- 
tented, until  I  met  you.  The  burning  wishes  that  have 
struggled  and  rioted  in  my  bosom  since  then,  I  cannot 
describe,  and  your  wildest  fancies  would  be  inadequate  to 
paint.  Come  to  me  if  there  is  pity  for  human  suffering  in 
your  nature.  I  am  pleading  now  not  for  love,  but  for 
mercy.  Say  not  that  I  am  lost  if  you  come.  I  know  it, 
but  there  is  bliss  in  the  degradation.  •  What  care  I  for  the 
world's  opinion  ?  You  are  the  world  to  me. 

"  In  the  package  which  contains  this,  you  will  find  my 
miniature.  Keep  it,  and  then  I  shall  be  assured  that  some 
day  my  summons  will  be  heeded.  Farewell." 

The  miniature  and  the  letter  were  carefully  sealed  up, 
directed  to  Bernard  Lile,  and  put  away  to  await  the  call 
of  Monsieur  Evadne. 

It  was  not  very  long  before  the  Frenchman  came  to  say 
that  he  was  about  sending  a  messenger  with  letters  and 

18* 


210  BERNARD     LILE. 

papers  to  Mr.  Lile,  and  that  he  should  be  very  happy  to 
accommodate  madame  at  the  same  time.  The  package 
was  delivered  to  him  without  special  instructions,  and  with 
apparent  indifference.  A  year  went  by.  A  year  of 
agonized  suspense.  One  day  a  sealed  paper  was  laid 
upon  the  table  before  her.  She  opened  it,  and  her  own 
miniature  fell  from  her  palsied  hand.  The  note  accom- 
panying it  was  brief  and  decisive. 

"  My  heart  is  dead  to  every  emotion  of  love.  I  should 
bring  you  misery  and  disgrace,  instead  of  joy,  by  again 
intruding  myself  upon  your  presence.  Forget  one  who  is 
far  too  unworthy  to  have  excited  such  a  passion  in  your 
bosom.  In  the  whirl  of  society  it  will  be  easy  to  efface  the 
unpleasant  remembrance — much  easier  than  it  will  be  for 
me  to  obtain  self-forgiveness  for  the  uneasiness  I  have 
unintentionally  caused  you.  I  must  not  take  such  an 
occasion  as  this  to  obtrude  advice  upon  you,  but  you  are 
fitted  for  higher  and  holier  things  than  the  narrow  walks 
of  fashion  allow,  and  it  would  gladden  my  exile  to  know 
that  you  were  fulfilling  your  appropriate  mission.  With  the 
fervent  wishes  of  a  lone  and  blighted  man,  for  your  welfare 
and  happiness,  I  must  bid  you  a  final  adieu." 

"My  mission,"  she  murmured,  "God  knows  what  it 
may  be." 

Mrs.  Winter's  heart  did  not  break.  Hearts  do  some- 
times break  in  this  world,  and  sometimes  they  do  worse — 
rot  inch  by  inch,  and  drop  piecemeal  into  the  tomb.  But 
there  is  a  worse  fate  still,  and  a  far  more  common  one ; 
when  with  the  affections,  the  virtues  also  die  out — when 
passion  has  swept  over  the  breast,  like  fire  over  the  prairie, 
burning  together  the  green  thing  and  the  dry — the  parched 
stem,  and  the  springing  blade.  The  moral  life  droops 
and  withers — the  animal  exists.  In  the  place  of  a  host  of 
affections  and  sympathies,  a  fierce  thirst,  more  unappeasa- 


BERNARD     LILE.  211 

ble  than  that  of  Tantalus,  comes  and  seats  itself  within, 
driving  us  on  forever  to  some  new  madness,  or  some  foul 
crime.  Such  was  the  fate  of  Pauline  Winter.  The  hope- 
less love  she  had  cherished  did  not  kill  her,  nor  die  itself : 
it  only  forced  her  to  seek  new  channels  of  enjoyment — 
new  and  more  powerful  excitements.  She  had  cast  a 
priceless  gem  upon  the  waters  ;  it  could  not  be  lured  back, 
and  she  went  in  search  of  it  amid  the  troubled  depths  of  a 
guilty  ocean.  Before  another  twelvemonth  was  told  by  the 
tongue  of  time,  she  eloped  with  a  libertine,  and  became  a 
stained  and  blackened  outcast. 

Here  let  the  curtain  drop.  All  instruction  is  not 
healthful,  and  that  philanthropy  is  of  questionable  use- 
fulness which  reveals  the  minute  points  of  a  guilty  life  to 
the  young,  with  the  expectation  of  turning  their  footsteps 
from  the  pitfall. 


212  BERN A ED     LILB. 


CHAPTER 


"  Not  his  the  heart  the  Phrygian  -victor  bore  ; 
Not  his  the  brand  that  gleamed  on  Granic's  shore  ; 
Not  his  the  race  all  conquering  Julius  ran  ; 
Not  his  the  star  that  led  the  Corsican. 
His  country  called  him  —  called  in  wild  despair. 
The  warrior  came  and  all  his  soul  was  there." 

AT  the  instance  of  Major  Donaldson,  the  American 
Charge  to  Texas,  Gen.  Taylor  had  been  ordered  by  the 
President  to  concentrate  a  small  army  at  Corpus  Christi,  for 
the  protection  of  the  frontier,  while  Commodore  Stockton, 
under  similar  instructions  assembled  a  considerable  fleet  in 
the  Gulf.  The  rude  treatment  of  the  American  envoy  in 
Mexico,  determined  the  President  to  occupy  the  disputed 
territory  between  the  Nueces  and  the  Rio  Grande,  and  on 
the  8th  of  March,  1846,  the  advance  column  of  the  army 
of  Gen.  Taylor  commenced  its  march  for  the  latter  river. 
They  proceeded  without  encountering  an  enemy  to  the 
Arroyo  Colorado,  within  thirty  miles  of  Metamoras,  where 
they  met  a  Mexican  force,  who  drew  off  without  offering 
battle.  On  the  28th  of  March,  the  American  army  en- 
camped within  cannon  range  of  Metamoras,  and  began  a 
field  work  which  was  subsequently  named  Fort  Brown,  in 
honor  of  the  gallant  officer  who  lost  his  life  in  its  defence. 
The  Mexicans  with  equal  industry  erected  batteries  on  the 
opposite  side  of  the  river.  But  as  yet  no  blow  had  been 
struck  —  no  thunder  was  audible  —  no  lightning  played  upon 
the  dark  cloud  that  obscured  the  horizon.  Not  long  after- 
wards a  company  of  dragoons,  who  had  been  sent  up  the 
river  to  reconnoitre,  were  surrounded  by  the  Mexicans, 
and  the  whole  taken  prisoners.  It  was  the  first  time 


BERNARD     LILE.  213 

they  had  ever  encountered  American  regulars,  and  the 
result  was  hailed  as  a  happy  augury  of  the  coming  struggle. 
Like  most  auguries  except  those  of  a  firm  heart,  and  strong 
arm,  it  proved  to  be  wofully  fallacious.  Walker's  camp 
was  next  surprised,  and  his  company  scattered,  slain  or 
taken  captive.  Thus  auspiciously  for  Mexico  opened  the> 
bloody  drama  whose  closing  scenes  were  played  in  the 
heart  of  her  empire.  From  that  time  to  the  treaty  of 
Guadaloupe  Hidalgo  not  another  success  gladdened  their 
arms.  Not  a  field  was  fought  of  which  the  invaders  did 
not  remain  the  victors.  Not  a  fortress  was  invested  that 
was  not  taken.  And  but  a  single  company  of  American 
troops  ever  grounded  their  arms  in  presence  of  an  enemy. 
For  campaigns  of  .such  magnitude  and  such  uninterrupted 
success,  the  world's  history  will  be  searched  in  vain.  On 
the  8th  of  May,  1846,  the  war  began  in  earnest.  The  two 
armies  encountered  each  other  at  Palo  Alto.  The  Mexi- 
cans under  Arista  were  six  thousand  strong.  The  Ameri- 
cans under  Taylor  numbered  twenty-three  hundred,  all  told. 
The  battle  lasted  five  hours,  when  Arista  drew  off,  and 
Taylor  camped  his  victorious  army  on  the  hotly  contested 
field.  Arista  halted  at  Resaca  de  la  Palma,  a  strong 
position  protected  by  a  deep  ravine,  skirted  by  dense 
thickets.  At  four  o'clock,  on  the  ^)th,  Gen.  Taylor  came 
up  with  the  enemy.  The  Mexicans  are  said  to  have  fought 
bravely  and  well,  but  their  columns  were  at  length  broken 
by  successive  charges,  and  the  whole  army  fled  in  the 
wildest  disorder,  leaving  their  artillery,  munitions,  baggage, 
camp  equipage,  everything  in  the  hands  of  the  victors. 

Intelligence  of  these  events  were  borne  to  the  interior, 
and  Lile  and  Simpson  hurried  their  preparations  for  join- 
ing the  invading  army.  When  they  reached  Metamoras 
they  found  that  Gen.  Taylor  had  left  that  city,  and  was 
concentrating  his  army  at  Camargo,  one  hundred  and 


214  BERNARD     LILB. 

eighty  miles  above,  near  the  junction  of  the  San  Juan  and 
Rio  Grande,  with  a  view  of  advancing  on  Monterey,  the 
capital  of  New  Leon,  at  that  time  occupied  by  Gen.  Am- 
pudia  with  about  seven  thousand  regular  and  three  thous- 
and irregular  troops. 

An  American  whose  ill  fortune  has  made  him  for  any 
number  of  days,  a  sojourner  in  the  city  of  Metamoras,  can 
have  no  difficulty  in  tracing  the  origin  of  the  term  "  greaser," 
originally  applied  by  the  old  Texans  to  the  Mexican 
Rancheros,  and  subsequently  extended  to  the  whole  nation. 
Narrpw,  muddy,  filthy  streets,  swarming  with  men,  women 
and  children  as  filthy — enlivened  by  an  eternal  chorus  of 
little  dogs  without  hair,  except  about  the  muzzles,  and  the» 
tips  of  their  tails — houses  without  floors,  built  of  mud  and 
straw,  and  inhabited  by  fleas,  and  other  vermin,  in  the  pro- 
portion of  fifty  to  the  square  inch — disgusting  sewers — 
rotting  offal,  and  a  hot,  sickly  atmosphere,  make  up  an 
assembly  of  discomforts  compared  with  which  the  purga- 
tory of  an  orthodox  Catholic  is  rather  an  agreeable  kind  of 
place.  The  people  look  greasy,  their  clothes  are  greasy, 
tiieir  dogs  are  greasy,  their  houses  are  greasy — everywhere 
grease  and  filth  hold  divided  dominion,  and  the  singular 
appropriateness  of  the  name  bestowed  by  the  western 
settlers,  soon  caused  ft  to  be  universally  adopted  by  the 
American  army. 

Lile  and  Simpson  were  standing  on  the  upper  deck  of 
one  of  the  many  steamers  sent  out  by  the  United  States 
government  to  transport  troops  and  munitions  to  Camargo. 
The  deck-hands  were  lounging  idly  about  the  lower  deck ; 
some  of  them  sleeping,  or  trying  to  sleep  in  the  hot  sun — 
others  drawing  figures  on  the  rough  planks,  and  others 
again  holding  a  kind  of  broken  conversation  upon  discon- 
nected subjects. 


I 

BERNARD     LILB.  215 

"There's  a  Greaser,  I  know,"  said  Simpson,  pointing  to 
one  of  the  hands,  "  and  he's  not  here  for  any  good." 

"I  do  not  think  I  have  ever  seen  him  before,"  was  the 
reply.  "  What  do  you  know  about  him?" 

"  He  lived  awhile  at  Seguin's  Ranche,  and  the  boys  ran 
him  away  on  suspicion  of  being  a  spy  for  the  robbers  who 
used  to  trouble  us  then.  Afterwards  he  was  employed  by 
Kinney;  then  Cameron  took  him  as  a  guide  when  he  went 
to  Mier,  where  he  was  murdered  ;  and  if  this  fellow  didn't 
have  a  hand  in  it,  he  was  damnably  slandered." 

"  May  you  not  be  mistaken  ?  I  am  sure  I  have  never 
seen  this  man  at  Corpus  Christi." 

"  You  might  not  have  noticed  him,  but  he  was  there. 
I  never  mistake  the  ear  marks  of  a  Greaser.  I'll  swear  to 
him  on  a  stack  of  Bibles.'" 

"  We  must  watch  him  then  ;  but  I  do  not  see  what  harm 
he  can  do  here ;  unless  it  is  to  pilfer  something  from  the 
steamer." 

"  He  was  born  a  thief,  and  I  reckon  counts  the  stealage 
as  the  best  part  of  his  wages.  But  he  has  done  worse 
things  than  steal.  He  would  murder  his  brother  for  a 
peso,  and  betray  any  thing  but  his  priest  for  half  the 
money." 

The  captain  had  now  come  on  board,  and  just  as  the 
sun  went  down,  the  cable  was  slipped,  and  the  steamer 
backed  out  into  the  stream.  A  number  of  convalescing 
soldiers  were  lying  about  the  vessel,  who  had  recently 
been  discharged  from  the  hospitals.  The  strong  and  the 
healthy  were  for  the  most  part  sent  up  by  land  as  they 
arrived,  as  guards  for  the  wagon  trains  Gen.  Taylor  was 
collecting  preparatory  to  his  advance  into  the  interior. 
Moving  carelessly  among  these,  addressing  a  question  to 
one,  or  a  light  remark  to  another,  Simpson  gradually  made 
his  way  to  the  front  part  of  the  boat,  where  the  firemen 


216  BERNARD     LILE. 

were  engaged  in  their  duties.  By  the  blazing  light  of  the 
fires  he  scrutinized  anew  the  features  of  the  Mexican  who 
had  attracted  his  attention  while  standing  on  the  upper 
deck.  The  examination  satisfied  him,  and  placing  his 
hand  lightly  on  the  fellow's  shoulder,  he  said  slowly, 

"  When  did  you  see  Cameron  last,  Jose  ?" 

The  man  started,  with  visible  surprise  and  alarm,  but 
in  a  moment  a  dull,  heavy  expression  settled  on  his  coun- 
tenance, and  he  answered, 

"No  entende  Americana." 

"  The  devil  you  don't !  I  could  find  a  way  to  make  you, 
but  it  aint  worth  while  now." 

And  Simpson  walked  away  to  seek  Lile,  and  assure  him 
there  could  be  no  possible  doubt  of  the  identity  of  the  indi- 
vidual in  question.  Later  in  the  night,  when  all  on  board 
were  buried  in  sleep,  except  the  officers  and  "men  on  duty, 
Tom  Simpson  was  standing  on  the  lower  deck,  now  watch- 
ing the  ripples  made  by  the  paddles  on  the  muddy  surface 
of  the  Rio  Grande,  now  casting  an  eye  on  the  dreary  and 
desolate  scenery  presented  along  that  singular  river.  From 
Metarnoras  to  Camargo  not  a  solitary  tree  grows  upon  its 
margin.  Bleak  wastes,  interspersed  with  patches  of  chapa- 
ral,  everywhere  meet  the  eye.  At  intervals  they  glided  by 
whole  acres  of  ground  which  presented  the  exact  appear- 
ance of  an  old  peach  orchard,  whose  withered  and  sapless 
trees  were  rotting  in  solitary  loneliness  slowly  away.  No 
white-walled  cottages ;  no  cultivated  fields ;  no  ornamented 
grounds  relieved  the  sameness  of  the  prospect,  or  gave 
evidence  that  civilized  man  exercised  dominion  over  the 
blasted  soil.  It  was  the  home  of  a  people  whose  substance 
had  been  wrung  from 'them  by  the  tyrant  and  the  priest, 
and  whose  energies  had  been  withered  by  the  baleful  con- 
viction that  any  provision  for  the  morrow  would  only  serve 
to  pamper  their  oppressors.  Occupied  by  the  reflections 


BERNARD     LILB.  217 

suggested  by  the  hour  and  the  scene,  Tom  Simpson  paid 
no  attention  to  a  crouching  form  stealthily  approaching  the 
spot  where  he  stood.  With  a  sudden  spring  the  Mexican 
was  upon  him,  endeavoring  with  all  his  force  to  push  the 
sturdy  backwoodsman  into  the  rushing  flood.  Fortunately 
he  was  standing  immediately  by  one  of  the  pillars  that 
supported  the  upper  deck,  and  as  he  reeled  forward,  clutch- 
ing the  air  without  an  object,  his  hand  caught  the  friendly 
support.  But  for  this  his  life  and  adventures  would  have 
been  brought  to  a  sudden  termination.  With  a  mighty 
effort  he  drew  himself  back  from  the  foaming  waters,  and 
dealing  the  Mexican  a  blow  that  stretched  him  upon  the 
deck,  he  sprang  upon  him  with  a  deep  growl,  between 
anger  and  satisfaction.  Deliberately,  but  skilfully  and 
securely,  he  bound  his  now  trembling  and  pleading  cap- 
tive ;  addressing  him  during  the  operation  in  a  tone  that 
gave  no  encouragement  to  hopes  of  merciful  treatment. 

"You  didn't  understand  English  awhile  ago,  and  by 
G — d  there  are  some  English  words  I  don't  understand 
now.  Mercy,  eh  I  Mercy  for  a  sneaking  scoundrel,  who 
tried  to  make  catfish  meat  of  Tom  Simpson.  Well,  I'm 
going  to  be  merciful.  I'm  going  to  drop  you  into  this 
ugly,  dirty,  crooked  creek,  that  you  call  a  grand  river, 
behind  the  wheels.  You  tried  to  push  me  in  before  'em, 
where  a  few  thumps  from  them  iron  paddles  would  have 
interfered  with  a  fellow's  swimming  most  infernally." 

By  this  time  the  noise  had  attracted  a  dozen  or  more  of 
the  soldiers  and  "hands,"  to  the  place.  Simpson  answered 
their  interrogatories,  without  desisting  a  moment  from 
his  occupation.  Various  modes  of  punishment  were  sug- 
gested. 

"  Never  mind,  boys,"  was  the  rejoinder.  "  It's  all 
settled." 

Lifting  the  Mexican,  as  easily  as  if  he  had  been  an 


218  BERNARD     LILE. 

infant,  he  bore  him  back  to  the  stern  of  the  boat.  De- 
positing his  burden,  and  drawing  his  bowie  knife,  he  again 
addressed  him. 

"  Now,  my  beauty,  before  I  let  you  go,  I  intend  to  put 
a  mark  on  you.  A  smooth  crop  of  the  right  ear,  and  a 
swallow  fork  in  the  left ;  that  was  my  old  father's  mark  in 
Tennessee,  and  I  have  put  it  on  many  a  cub  bear  since,  just 
to  keep  up  the  family  fashion." 

"  You  don't  mean  to  mark  him  that  way  ?"  asked  one  of 
the  soldiers. 

"  If  I  don't  may  the  Lord  take  a  liking  to  me,"  was  the 
reply,  and  the  sharp  knife  slipped  through  the  upper  section 
of  the  ear,  cutting  it  smooth  and  square.  Amid  the  yells 
and  contortions  of  the  suffering  wretch,  the  left  ear  was 
doubled  up  between  the  thumb  and  forefinger,  when  a 
single  cut  of  the  knife  transformed  it  into  that  particular 
shape  known  among  hog  breeders  as  a  swallow  fork. 

The  ligatures  that  fastened  hand  and  foot  were  removed, 
and  seizing  the  howling  miscreant  in  his  sinewy  hands,  he 
pitched  him  far  out  in  the  stream.  He  disappeared  for  a 
space  under  the  rapid  current,  but,  by  the  clear  light  of  the 
moon,  they  soon  saw  him  rise  above  the  waves,  and  strike 
out  for  the  bank. 

"He'll  make  it  easy,"  said  Simpson.  "This  d d 

branch  aint  wide  enough  to  drown  a  puppy,  let  alone  a 
Greaser,  who  is  as  much  used  to  muddy  water  as  a  tad- 
pole." 

The  soldiers  gathered  in  a  group  to  make  their  com- 
ments on  the  scene  they  had  just  witnessed,  and  Simpson 
ascended  to  the  pilot-house. 

"What  are  you  doing  up,"  asked  the  pilot,  "at  this 
time  of  night,  Tom  ?" 

"  It's  been  a  long  time  since  the  captain  and  me  both 
went  to  sleep  at  once.  It's  his  turn  to  sleep  first  to-night." 


BERNAKD     LILE.  219 

"There's  no  use  of  standing  guard  on  board  of  the 
boat" 

"May  be  not,  bnt  we  don't  like  to  break  throngh  a 
good  habit,  and  besides  there's  no  telling  what  might 
happen." 

Then  suddenly  changing  the  subject  of  conversation,  he 
asked  in  turn, 

"  What  do  you  know  of  this  river,  Jim  ?" 

"  Not  much.     None  of  us  do." 

"  Do  you  stop  anywhere  near  here  ?" 

"  Yea.     We  have  to  '  wood'  about  five  miles  above." 

"  What  sort  of  a  place  is  it  P* 

"  It's  an  ugly  chaparal  thicket 

"  No  chance  to  go  by  without  stopping  ?" 

"  None  at  all.  Wood  is  not  piled  up  here,  every  mile, 
like  it  is  on  the  Mississippi.  What  do  you  want  to  know 
for  ?» 

Simpson  then  related  all  that  had  occurred  below  ;  the 
pilot's  situation  and  duties  having  kept  him  in  ignorance 
of  the  whole  affair.  He  added  what  he  had  known  of  the 
Mexican  before,  and  expressed  his  opinion,  that  some 
treachery  was  afoot.  The  pilot  listened  attentively,  and 
when  the  story  was  ended,  he  said, 

"  Go  below,  Tom,  and  call  up  Captain  H .     Tell 

him  I  want  to  see  him  directly." 

When  the  captain  of  the  boat  came  above,  he  was  made 
acquainted  with  the  events  of  the  night,  and  with  Simpson's 
suspicions. 

"We  must  stop  to  wood,"  he  said.  "The  probability, 
is  that  we  can  do  so  without  interruption.  They  must 
have  agreed  on  a  signal,  and  as  Jose  is  not  here  to  give  it, 
they  will  not  be  apt  to  venture  on  a  serious  attack.  The 
worst  we  have  to  apprehend  is,  that  they  may  fire  from  the 
bushes,  and  kill  some  of  our  men.v 


BERNAKD     LILE. 

The  sergeant  in  charge  of  the  soldiers  was  called  up, 
and  directed  to  post  his  men  as  well  as  he  could  behind 
the  boxes  and  hogsheads,  ready  for  instant  action.  By 
the  time  these  arrangements  were  completed,  the  boat 
neared  the  woodyard.  Slowly  and  cautiously  they  ap- 
proached the  shore,  and  as  nothing  appeared  to  increase 
their  suspicions,  the  captain  began  to  think  he  had  been 
needlessly  alarmed.  -,s  {.--; 

Lile  had  been  awakened,  and  together  with  Simpson, 
was  standing  in  the  shadow  of  the  pilot-house. 

"  Look  out  there,  Tom,"  he  said.  "  Do  you  not  see 
something  glittering  above  the  bushes,  about  forty  yards 
from  the  bank  ?"  ;  >  : 

"  Plain  enough.  I  have  been  trying  for  two  minutes  to 
make  out  what  it  was." 

"It  is  the  steel  head  of  a  Mexican  lance." 

"I  have  killed  many  a  buck,"  said  Simpson,  "when  I 
could  see  nothing  but  the  tips  of  his  horns  above  the 
bushes,  but  that  lance  is  too  steady  to  be  held  in  a  man's 
hand.  It  must  be  fastened  in  the  ground. " 

"  Nevertheless,  the  owner  may  be  seated  by  it.  At  any 
rate,  there  is  nothing  to  be  lost  but  a  charge  of  powder 
and  lead." 

He  raised  his  rifle  as  he  ceased  speaking,  and  its  sharp 
report  was  followed  by  the  sudden  disappearance  of  the 
lance.  Then  came  a  hurried  volley  of  escopetas,  and  a 
rushing  noise  like  that  of  men  retreating  precipitately 
through  the  thorny  chaparal. 

"  There  they  go,"  exclaimed  Simpson.     "  The  sneaking, 

"thieving,  murdering  cowards.     There's  enough  of  them  to 

eat  up  this  boat,  and  everything  that's  on  it,  and  they  are 

running  from  a  single  rifle  shot,  like  a  herd  of  frightened 

cattle." 

"  There  is  some  excuse  for  it  this  time,  Tom.     They  no 


^^o 

r     afl 


BERNARD     LILE.  225 

cess  was  scarcely  hushed  before  the  echoes  .were  again 
awakened  by  the  sterner  shout  that  answered  a  new  order 
to  rush  upon  another  of  the  enemy's  defences.  The  Mexi- 
cans appalled  by  the  startling  rapidity  of  his  movements 
shivered  with  nervous  dread  as  the  living  tide  rolled  upon 
them,  and  the  victory  was  won  before  a  drop  of  blood 
fattened  the  soil. 

In  front  of  the  city,  under  the  immediate  eye  of  Gen. 
Taylor,  daring  deeds  were  enacted,  and  laurel  crowns 
abundantly  gathered  by  the  republican  soldiers.  But  Gen. 
Butler  had  been  driven  back  wounded  and  bleeding  from 
an  assault  he  led  in  person,  and  Col.  Garland  advancing 
against  a  strong  redoubt  was  met  by  murderous  discharges 
of  artillery,  which  compelled  him  to  retire.  The  brigade 
of  Quitman  alone  effected  a  lodgment,  and  not  until  the 
Bishop's  Hill  was  captured  by  Worth,  did  the  Mexicans 
abandon  their  outworks  in  front.  On  the  night  of  the  23d, 
Gen.  Ampudia  sent  propositions  for  a  capitulation.  On 
the  24th,  the  terms  were  agreed  to,  and  on  the  25th,  the 
city  of  Monterey  was  occupied  by  the  American  troops. 
On  the  bank  of  the  San  Juan,  where  it  winds  nearest 
the  mountain  range  of  the  Sierra  Madre,  a  few  nights 
after  the  events  just  recorded,  five  or  six  burning  fires 
streaked  the  limpid  waters  with  long  lines  of  reddish  light. 
Around  each  of  these  was  gathered  a  group  of  old  frontier 
men,  to  whom  the  discipline  of  a  regular  army  was  intoler- 
able, and  whose  notions  of  wild  independence  were  shocked 
even  by  the  lighter  restraints  of  the  Ranger  camp.  Here 
no  tents  were  pitched,  no  baggage  wagons  were  collected, 
no  regular  guard  posted,  or  relieved.  They  were  accus- 
tomed in  the  colder  climate  of  Texas  to  repose  in  the  open 
air,  and  here  beneath  the  soft  sky  of  New  Leon,  a  sense  of 
suffocation  would  have  oppressed  them  if  confined  within 
the  canvass  walls  of  a  tent.  Their  baggage  consisted  of  a 


<*: 


226  BERNARD     LILE. 

blanket,  an  extra  pair  of  pantaloons,  socks,  and  a  shirt. 
Their  camp  equipage  was  a  tin  cup.  Wherever  they  halted, 
a  limb  from  the  nearest  bush  served  the  purpose  of  a  spit ; 
or  if  none  were  to  be  found,  the  ramrods  of  their  rifles  were 
put  in  requisition.  A  few  grains  of  coffee,  mashed  into  a 
powder  with  the  handles  of  their  Bowie  knives,  were  put 
into  the  cup  and  drunk  without  straining,  from  the  same 
vessel  in  which  it  was  boiled.  Upon  any  alarm  or  any 
sudden  call,  they  were  prepared  in  two  minutes  to  march, 
to  retreat,  or  to  fight.  Never  detailing  any  one  for  the 
duties  of  a  sentry,  and  arranging  all  things  by  agreement 
among  themselves,  they  yet  kept  better  watch,  marked 
more  accurately  every  unusual  s6und,  and  were  earlier 
apprised  of  impending  danger  than  any  troops  in  the 
army.  Refusing  to  have  their  names  inscribed  on  the 
muster-roll,  they  received  no  pay,  and  for  the  most  part 
subsisted  themselves.  In  battle  they  were  almost  always 
with  the  Rangers.  Wherever  the  bullets  were  flying  thickest 
they  were  sure  to  be  found.  Wherever  the  dead  were  piled 
the  highest  there  they  had  charged.  Invariably  discarding 
the  rifle  as  they  neared  an  enemy,  and  resorting  to  the 
revolver,  it  was  terrible  to  witness  the  wide  havoc  which 
always  marked  the  spot  where  they  fought. 

"What  are  we  to  do  now,  John  Glanton?"  said  a  large, 
broad-shouldered  man,  cramming  a  huge  piece  of  beef  into 
his  capacious  mouth.  "  Old  Zack  has  patched  up  an  eight 
weeks'  peace,  and  d — m  me  if  I  know  what  to  be  at  while 
it  lasts." 

The  youth  he  addressed  had  not  seen  more  than  twenty- 
two  summers.  His  cheek  was  smooth  and  almost  beard- 
less ;  his  frame  slender  and  light.  There  was  a  peculiar 
glossiness  about  the  long,  raven  hair  that  hung  around  his 
neck,  and  but  for  the  firm  lip,  and  the  flashing  eye,  he 
might  have  been  mistaken  for  a  woman  in  disguise.  But 


BEIINAKD     LILE.  227 

4. 

that  slight  frame  was  knit  of  twisted  steel,  and  the  white 
hand  that  brushed  back  his  flowing  hair  had  shed  more 
blood  than  would  have  furnished  its  owner  a  crimson  bath. 

"  Suck  your  paws,"  he  said,  laughing,  "  like  an  old  he 
bear  in  winter.  As  for  me,  I  hear  that  Mustang  Gray  is 
ordered  to  Camargo,  and  I  shall  vamos  with  him.  I  hear, 
too,  that  some  of  the  boys  are  to  be  quartered,  in  Mier. 
Wouldn't  you  like  to  go  there,  and  cheer  up  some  of  the 
widows  you  had  a  hand  in  making  when  Fisher  and  the 
rest  of  you  run  your  heads  into  that  sweet  trap  in  '42  ?" 

"  And  what  kept  you  out  of  it,  boy,  as  you  was,"  was 
the  quick  retort,  "  but  the  devil's  luck,  that  always  follows 
an  imp  like  you  ?  As  for  the  widows,"  he  continued,  "they 
oughtn't  to  think  hard  of  me  for  ridding  them  of  a  d — d 
trifling  lot  of  husbands." 

"  And  I'll  swear  they  won't.  I'll  bet  my  revolver  against 
a  quart  of  muscal  that  you  may  go  to  a  fandango  and 
dance  with  every  widow,  in  the  house,  without  hearing  a 
word  about  the  pretty  little  red  puddles  you  made  in  the 
streets." 

"  I  shan't  try  it,  John ;  for  if  they  didn't  think  about  it 
I  should.  I  should  be  thinking  too  of  the  d — n — d  rusty 
chains  they  hammered  around  my  legs,  and  kept  them  there 
until  they  gnawed  into  the  bone.  That  job  of  work  aint 
paid  for  yet,  and  I  think  I  will  settle  up  square  with  the 
men  before  I  begin  to  make  love  to  the  Senoritas." 

"  There  is  exactly  where  we  differ.  I'm  thinking  of  the 
girls  all  the  time,  and  curse  me  if  I  haven't  killed  half  a 
dozen  Greasers  for  no  other  reason  in  the  world  than 
because  I  thought  it  would  delight  the  black-eyed,  orange- 
cheeked  damsels  to  get  rid  of  the  infernal  brutes." 

"You  killed  'em  more  because  yon  was  a  born  devil, 
John,  than  anything  else,"  replied  the  volunteer,  lying 


228  BERNARD     LILB. 

down  upon  his  blanket  with  the  air  of  a  man  who  intended 
to  put  an  end  to  the  conversation. 

"  What  are  you  going  to  do,  Tom  ?"  asked  Glanton, 
placing  his  hand  on  Simpson's  knee,  who  was  seated  on  the 
ground  by  his  side. 

"I  can't  tell.  The  captain  and  me  haven't  talked  it 
over  yet."  e 

"  Where  is  he  ?" 

"In  Monterey,  with  Captain  Wilson,  who  has  got  a 
bullet  through  his  ribs,  that  is  likely  to  be  serious." 

"Tom,"  said  Glanton,  thoughtfully,  "you  are  the  only 
man  in  this  country  that  knows  anything  about  Bernard 
Lile." 

"  Why  he  was  in  Texas,  and  fought  by  the  side  of  your 
father,  before  you  was  big  enough  to  shoot  a  rifle  without 
a  rest. " 

"  Yes,  I  know  that,  and  I  have  heard  my  father  tell  tales 
of  what  he  did  in  the  Revolution,  until  I  couldn't  sleep  the 
whole  night  for  thinking  of  them.  But  nobody  knows 
anything  about  him  before  that." 

"You  had  better  ask  him." 

"  Ask  him !  I  would  as  soon  think  of  asking  old  Zach 
Taylor  to  give  me  his  gray  horse.  Ask  him !  I  think  you 
say.  No  sir-ree.  But,  Tom,"  he  continued,  in  a  coaxing 
tone,  "just  give  me  a  hint,  and  there's  no  telling  what  I'll 
do  for  you." 

"  I  don't  know  anything  to  tell  you,  John,  and  wouldn't 
do  it  if  I  did,  unless  he  said  so. " 

"Well,"  said  Glanton,  rising,  walking  behind  Simpson, 
and  putting  his  hands  on  his  shoulders,  "  if  you  wont  tell 
me  anything,  I'll  tell  you  something." 

He  stooped,  as  if  to  whisper  in  his  ear,  and  catching  the 
member  in  his  teeth,  bit  it  sharply.  With  a  hasty  exclama- 
tion, the  hunter  turned  to  grasp  his  tormentor,  but  the 


BERNARD     LILE.  229 

active  youth  had  bounded  beyond  his  reach,  and  with  a  loud 
laugh  disappeared  in  the  darkness 

"Plague  take  the  boy,"  muttered  Simpson,  rubbing  the 
smarting  member,  "he's  brought  the  blood." 

Yery  soon  a  dead  silence  reigned  around  the  lonely 
camp-fires,  the  burning  brands  were  dropping  slowly  to 
ashes,  and  a  deep  sleep  had  fallen  on  the  rough,  hardy  and 
fearless  volunteers.  It  was  long  after  midnight  when  John 
Glanton  came  in,  and  touching  one  of  the  sleepers  with  his 
foot,  said, 

"  Come,  Jim.     It's  your 'time  now." 

The  man  rose — stirred  the  fire  so  as  to  see  that  the  caps 
on  his  revolver  were  all  right,  and  walked  off.  Glanton 
quietly  stretched  himself  upon  the  blanket  from  which  the 
other  had  just  risen.  This  was  all  the  ceremony  of  reliev- 
ing guard  in  that  free  encampment.  They  had  no  counter- 
sign, and  wanted  none.  The  sentry  let  any  one  pass  out 
who  chose  to  go,  and  any  one  he  knew,  and  did  not  suspect 
of  mischief,  was  in  like  manner  permitted  to  enter.  They 
stood  guard  only  to  prevent  the  approach  of  outward 
danger.  Every  thing  else  was  left  to  the  individual's  un- 
restrained inclinations.  In  an  army,  such  a  system  would 
be  destruction ;  with  them  it  was  safe  as  agreeable. 

In  a  small  house,  close  to  the  plaza,  in  the  City  of 
Monterey,  Bernard  Lile  was  seated  by  the  side  of  his 
wounded  friend.  He  was  too  familiar  with  gunshot  wounds 
to  doubt  that  this  one  was  fatal.  With  kind  and  gentle 
words,  he  smoothed  back  the  matted  hair  from  the  brow  of 
Robert  Wilson,  and  held  the  cooling  draught  to  his  fevered 
lips ;  but  his  attentions  were  bestowed  only  to  relieve  the 
present  sufferings  of  the  patient,  without  a  gleam  of  hope 
that  they  might  result  in  ultimate  recovery.  Captain 
Wilson  was  himself  fully  aware  of  his  approaching  end, 
and  spoke  of  it  with  the  calm  firmness  of  a  patriot  soldier, 

20 


230  BERNARD     LILE. 

who  knows  that  his  duty  has  been  discharged,  and  feels 
that  a  life  given  to  his  country  is  never  lost.  It  blooms 
again,  beyond  the  grave,  in  a  land  where  winter  never 
comes,  and  suffering  is  unknown.  Hanging  around  the 
throne  of  sapphire  and  gold,  a  rich  garland  awaits  the 
coming  of  him  who  has  died  for  his  country,  and  when  the 
Eternal  Hand  has  dropped  it  on  his  brow,  Justice  hands 
the  record  of  his  life  to  Mercy,  and  turns  away  until  all 
that  is  black,  and  all  that  is  sinful,  is  erased. 

It  was  near  daylight — the  strong  man  leaned  his  elbow 
upon  the  couch  of  the  dying.  "From  his  deep  and  regular 
breathing,  he  believed  he  slept  soundly,  but  very  soon  a 
weak  voice  inquired, 

"  What  time  is  it  now  ?" 

"  Nearly  five  o'clock,"  was  the  answer.  "  Do  you  feel 
easy  ?" 

"Too  easy.  The  pain  is  gone,  and  death  is  coming. 
Put  away  the  curtain  from  the  window,  that  I  may  see  the 
first  rays  of  the  rising  sun.  Before  its  setting,  these  eyes 
will  be  shrouded  with  eternal  darkness." 

Lile  did  as  he  was  directed ;  when  the  wounded  man 
again  called  him  to  his  side. 

"  Sit  down.  There  is  one  thing  which  has  been  pressing 
upon  me  for  days,  and  I  must  mention  it  before  I  go. 
Your  wife  died  believing  me  churlish,  and  it  may  be  un- 
grateful. I  would  not  have  you  live  on  in  the  same 
belief." 

"Do  not  distress  yourself,"  answered  Lile,  "by  dwelling 
on  so  sad  a  subject.  She  knew  all,  and  did  you  justice." 

"  All  I  are  you  sure  of  it  ?" 

"  As  sure  of  it,  as  I  am  of  my  own  existence. "  And  he 
drew  from  his  bosom  the  letter  he  had  received  from  Zerah 
in  Texas,  and  read  it  slowly  and  plainly. 

Robert  Wilson  raised  himself  slightly,  and  listened  with 


BERNARD     LILE.  231 

eager  attention.  When  it  was  concluded,  he  fell  back 
upon  his  pillow,  and  murmured,  faintly, 

"  Bless  her  I  She  was  an  angel,  who  strayed  away  from 
heaven  for  a  little  while  to  gladden  the  earth  with  her 
presence.  I  shall  see  her  soon." 

He  never  moved  again.  Without  a  sigh,  without  a 
gasp,  without  a  shiver,  the  spirit  passed  away,  and  the 
hand  of  his  friend  rested  on  a  pallid  corpse. 

When  Simpson  came  into  the  city  that  day,  according 
to  his  custom,  he  was  met  at  the  door  by  Lile. 

"  It  is  all  over,  Tom.  He  is  gone  like  most  of  those  I 
have  loved  on  earth.  Yourself  and  one  other  remain. 
Who  can  say  how  soon  those  links  may  also  be  shattered  ?" 

"  It  will  be  a  sorrowful  day,  captain,  when  you  and  I 
part.  But  there  is  no  telling  when  it  may  happen.  We've 
both  got  a  habit  of  gitting  in  the  way  of  bullets,  and  one 
or  the  other  is  like  enough  to  be  picked  off  whenever  a 
battle  is  fought." 

They  entered  the  house,  and  the  backwoodsman  gazed 
long  in  silence  upon  the  cold  clay  before  them.  His  voice 
was  choked  and  husky,  when  he  spoke. 

"  He  was  a  good  one,  or  I'm  no  judge  of  a  soldier.  He's 
gone  to  heaven,  I  reckon." 

"I  hope  so." 

"  Don't  you  believe,  captain,  that  a  man  who  is  killed  in 
his  country's  battles  always  goes  there  ?" 

"  I  believe,  Tom,  that  such  a  death  is  a  meet  atonement 
for  many  an  error,  but  I  pretend  not  to  understand  the 
purposes  of  the  Almighty.  His  justice  and  his  mercy  are 
inscrutable,  and  he  is  wisest  who  questions  not,  and  mur- 
murs not  at  his  decrees." 


BEHXAED     LILE. 


CHAPTER   XIII. 

"See!  bow  calm  he  looks,  and  stately, 

Like  a  warrior  on  his  shield, 
Waiting  till  the  flush  of  morning 

Breaks  along  the  battle  field. 
Bee ! — Oh  I  never  more  my  comrades, 

Shall  we  see  that  falcon  eye 
Redden  with  its  inward  lightning 

As  the  hour  of  fight  drew  nigh." 

IN  obedience  to  the  injunctions  of  Robert  Wilson, 
Bernard  Lile  had  enclosed  the  body  in  a  double  coffin, 
and  prepared  to  carry  it  to  his  native  village  for  interment. 
The  sad  duty  was  in  some  degree  lightened  by  the  reflec- 
tion that  it  gave  him  an  opportunity  of  meeting  John 
Abbott,  and  enjoying  a  brief  intercourse  with  that  true  and 
faithful  friend.  Perhaps  also  he  anticipated  a  melancholy 
pleasure  in  visiting  the  grave  of  Zerah,  after  an  absence  of 
years,  and  kneeling  on  the  sod  which  became  holy  ground 
the  day  her  remains  were  deposited  beneath  it.  An  eight 
weeks'  truce  had  been  agreed  on  by  the  hostile  commanders, 
and  no  active  operations  were  anticipated  within  the  time 
his  absence  would  necessarily  consume.  Tom  Simpson 
rode  a  few  miles  with  the  escort  which  conveyed  the  bodies 
of  Robert  Wilson  and  many  another  gallant  soldier,  back 
to  the  land  they  had  loved  so  truly,  and  served  so  faith- 
fully. In  that  funeral  train  there  were,  beyond  doubt, 
corpses  of  men  whose  lives  had  not  been  altogether  free 
from  reproach.  But  whatever  vices  may  have  rioted  in 
their  bosoms  they  had  made  all  the  atonement  this  world 
can  demand,  and  whatever  censure  may  have  attached  to 
them  while  living,  was  lost  in  the  admiration  excited  by  the 
manly  devotion  to  liberty,  and  the  unmistakable  love  of 


BERNARD     LILE.  233 

country  which  sealed  its  sincerity  with  blood.  The  rough 
backwoodsman,  as  he  rode  by  the  side  of  Lile,  gave  ex- 
pression to  feelings  that  had  a  place  in  the  bosoms  of 
ninety-nine  in  every  hundred  composing  the  American  army. 

"  It  will  be  a  solemn  day  when  these  poor  fellows  are 
landed  at  New  Orleans,  but  a  proud  one.  Their  sweet- 
hearts will  all  be  crying,  but  if  they  are  the  right  grit,  and 
I  know  our  gals  are,  they  wouldn't  swap  off  these  dead 
bodies  for  the  best  men  who  stayed  at  home  when  Old  Zack 
crossed  the  Rio  Grande." 

"  There  are  thousands  upon  thousands  there,  Tom,  who 
would  have  come  as  cheerfully,  and  fought  as  bravely  as 
these,  but  the  opportunity  was  denied  them." 

"  They  were  in  bad  luck  then.  I  would  rather  have  died 
at  Monterey,  than  to  have  been  kept  at  home  nursing  babies, 
when  men  were  playing  the  game  of  life  and  death  with 
lead  and  steel." 

His  companion  made  no  reply  at  the  moment.  When 
he  again  spoke  his  thoughts  had  traveled  to  a  dii-erent 
subject. 

"  What  do  you  purpose  to  do  while  I  am  gone  ?" 

"  I  haven't  settled  on  it  yet.  There's  Jack  Hays,  Ben 
McCulloch,  and  old  Lamar,  to  choose  between,  and  a  fellow 
can't  go  wrong,  no  matter  which  he  takes." 

"  They  are  true  soldiers,  all  of  them.  True  and  tried  ; 
and  what  is  better  still,  kind  and  upright  men.  I  shall 
come  back  as  soon  as  I  can." 

Months  r^led  away,  and  Bernard  Lile  did  not  return. 
On  the  12th  of  November,  the  division  of  Gen.  Worth  was 
again  pushed  forward,  and  in  a  few  days  thereafter  that 
indomitable  officer  took  possession  of  Saltillo.  In  De- 
cember he  was  joined  by  a  column  under  Gen.  Wool,  and 
soon  afterwards  Gen.  Taylor  himself  hurried  to  that  point 
to  meet  an  attack  threatened  by  Santa  Anna  with  over- 

20* 


234  BERNARD     LILE.] 

whelming  numbers.  The  operations  of  General  Scott  had 
made  it  necessary  for  him  to  withdraw  nearly  the  entire 
regular  force  from  the  command  of  Gen.  Taylor,  and  Santa 
Anna  who  hoped  to  win  an  easy  victory  over  the  undis- 
ciplined volunteers  who  remained,  moved  from  San  Louis 
Potosi  with  an  army  of  twenty-two  thousand  men  admirably 
equipped,  and  abundantly  supplied  with  all  the  munitions 
of  war.  A  daring  reconnoissance  made  by  Ben  McCulloch 
apprised  Gen.  Taylor  of  the  approach  of  his  enemy.  On 
the  20th  of  February,  Lieutenant-Colonel  May  was  des- 
patched to  the  Hacienda  of  Hecliondo,  and  Major  McCul- 
loch again  sent  to  Encarnacion.  On  the  21st  Gen.  Taylor 
fell  back  to  Buena  Vista.  On  the  22d,  the  army  of  Santa 
Anna  came  in  sight,  and  soon  after  midday  the  battle  began 
between  a  force  of  twenty  thousand  disciplined  troops,  and 
less  than  one  fourth  that  number  of  volunteers,  most  of 
whom  now  for  the  first  time  looked  upon  a  stricken  field. 
Throu  aout  that  day  and  the  next  the  murderous  conflict 
ragec.,  but  at  last  the  stubborn  heroism  of  the  republican 
soldiery  triumphed  over  the  desperate  odds  ;  under  cover 
of  the  darkness  Santa  Anna  retreated,  leaving  the  ensan- 
guined plain  thickly  strewed  with  his  dead  and  dying — 
his  army  completely  disorganised — his  own  laurels  forever 
withered.  A  death  blow  was  struck  at  the  energies  of 
Mexico,  soon  to  be  followed  by  others  as  fatal  from  another 
quarter,  until  even  Castilian  pride  was  humbled,  and  the 
haughty  descendants  of  the  early  conquerors  were  crushed 
beneath  a  heel  as  heavy,  if  not  as  pitiless,  aj;  that  which 
blotted  the  Aztec  name  from  the  map  of  nations. 

On  the  9th  of  March,  the  army  of  Gen.  Scott  landed  at 
Sacrificios,  and  on  the  21th  of  the  same  month  the  city  of 
Vera  Cruz,  and  the  famed  castle  of  San  Juan  De  Ulloa, 
were  surrendered  to  his  arms  after  a  regular  investment  of 
only  fifteen  days. 


BERNARD     LILE.  235 

The  movements  of  Santa  Anna  in  the  mean  time  had 
exhibited  an  almost  incredible  amount  of  daring  energy. 
Defeated  at  Buena  Yista  on  the  23d  of  February,  he  had 
returned  to  the  city  of  Mexico,  a  distance  of  more  than 
seven  hundred  miles, — quelled  a  serious  insurrection,  col- 
lected another  army  of  eighteen  thousand  men,  and  advanced 
to  the  heights  of  Cerro  Gordo,  which  command  the  national 
road  between  Vera  Cruz  and  Jalapa.  All  this  had  been 
accomplished  before  the  middle  of  April,  and  here  in  this 
seemingly  impregnable  position,  strong  by  nature  and 
rendered  doubly  strong  by  art,  he  awaited  the  coming  of 
Scott.  Every  defence  that  science  sould  suggest  had  been 
added,  and  the  Mexican  general  was  so  well  satisfied  that 
he  was  heard  to  exclaim,  "If  the  Americans  can  storm  this 
position,  they  can  storm  hell  itself." 

On  the  Itth  of  April,  Gen.  Scott  completed  his  arrange- 
ment, and  issued  his  final  orders.  The  battle  began  at 
daylight  on  the  18th,  and  before  two  o'clock  every  battery 
had  been  carried,  Santa  Anna  was  a  fugitive,  his  army  was 
annihilated,  and  forty-three  pieces  of  brass  ordnance, 
together  with  all  his  munitions  were  in  the  hands  of  Scott. 

Still,  Bernard  Lile  had  not  revisited  the  land  where 
these  stirring  scenes  were  enacted,  and  Tom  Simpson,  who 
had  borne  his  part  in  all  that  had  transpired  on  the  line  of 
the  Rio  Grande,  began  to  feel  uneasy  at  the  absence  of  his 
friend. 

At  length  he  received  a  letter,  and  when  he  had  glanced 
at  the  signature,  eagerly  perused  its  contents. 

"I  regret  that  I  could  not  be  with  you  at  Buena  Vista. 
It  was  a  glorious  field  and  will  be  embalmed  forever  in  the 
hearts  of  the  American  people.  Many  things  I  could  not 
foresee  have  detained  me,  and  besides  I  wished  to  make  a 
final  disposition  of  everything  I  possess,  for  I  have  a  pre- 


236  BERNARD     LILE. 

sentiment  that  my  race  is  nearly  run.  All  is  arranged,  and 
I  shall  set  out  in  a  short  time  for  Vera  Cruz.  Meet  me 
there.  It  is  along  that  line  the  war  must  be  henceforth 
waged,  and  I  am  sure  you  feel  as  I  do  that  the  place  best 
suited  to  us  is  that  where  the  hardest  blows  are  given  and 
received. 

" BERNARD  LILE." 

ft»  •««.* 

A  column  of  volunteers,  under  Gen.  Lane,  were  about 
descending  the  Rio  Grande  for  the  purpose  of  reinforcing 
Gen.  Scott.  Uniting  himself  with  these  Tom  Simpson 
embarked  at  Brasos  Santiago,  and  in  the  month  of  August, 
1847,  leaped  from  a  surf-boat  to  the  shore  at  Yera  Cruz. 
He  was  greeted  by  Lile  who  had  waited  his  coming,  and 
the  next  day  it  was  arranged  that,  as  Col.  Hays  was  still 
behind  with  the  Rangers,  they  should  attach  themselves  to 
Walker's  company  of  mounted  rifles,  and  accompany  Gen. 
Lane  on  his  march  to  the  interior.  Many  causes  con- 
spired to  hasten  the  movements  of  Lane.  The  deadly 
vomito  was  raging  throughout  the  tierra  caliente,  and  im- 
pelled him  to  seek  safety  from  its  attacks  among  the 
mountain  ranges.  Gen.  Scott's  communications  with  the 
coast  had  been  entirely  cut  off,  and  the  most  painful  uncer- 
tainty as  to  the  fate  of  his  gallant  army  existed.  Joe 
Lane  was  not'  a  man  to  remain  idle  at  such  a  time.  As  a 
partisan  officer  he  had  no  superior,  and  it  was  doubtful  if 

'  he  had  any  equal  in  the  American  army.  Always  in 
motion ;  always  on  the  alert ;  shrouding  his  own  plans  with 
impenetrable  secresy,  and  divining,  with  scarcely  ever  fail- 
ing certainty,  those  of  his  enemy,  he  spread  terror  and 
dismay  in  all  directions.  At  one  time  the  head  of  his 
column,  at  sun-down,  would  be  directed  eastward  towards 
some  garrisoned  town  or  fortified  place,  and  the  Mexican 
scouts  would  ride  off  at  full  speed  to  give  warning  of  the 


BERNARD     LILE.  237 

threatened  attack.  The  next  morning  he  would  pounce 
upon  an  encampment,  and  cut  up  a  guerilla  troop  resting  in 
security  twenty-five  or  thirty  miles  off  in  an  opposite  direc- 
tion. Sometimes  he  would  abandon  a  j  lace,  carrying  with 
him  his  sick,  wounded,  baggage,  munitions,  and  every  thing 
which  indicated  an  intention  to  move  entirely  off.  At 
night  he  would  return  with  a  picked  body  of  men,  and 
destroy  a  company  or  more  of  guerillas  who  had  been 
tempted  to  occupy  his  old  quarters  after  his  departure. 
The  armies  of  Napoleon  melted  away  before  the  system 
of  guerilla  war  adopted  in  Old  Spain.  In  Mexico,  Gen. 
Lane  turned  their  own  tactics  against  themselves.  Padre 
Jarauta  was  beaten  with  his  own  weapons.  Every  day 
the  number  of  his  lancers  lessened.  He  was  more  than  once 
surprised  himself,  and  narrowly  escaped  the  clutches  of  his 
indefatigable  foeman. 

At  Jalapa  Gen.  Lane  at  length  received  information 
that  put  an  end  to  the  system  of  warfare  he  had  thus  far 
pursued  so  successfully,  and  with  such  beneficial  results. 
The  battles  of  Molino  del  Rey,  Chepultepec,  and  the 
Garitas,  had  followed  those  of  Contreras  and  Cherubusco. 
The  city  of  Mexico  was  in  the  possession  of  Gen.  Scott, 
but  still  his  position  was  critical  in  the  extrem*  When 
that  wonderful  commander  descended  from  Ayotla  into  the 
valley  of  Mexico,  his  field  reports  showed  an  effective  force 
of  only  ten  thousand  eight  hundred  men.  With  that  little 
army  he  had  fought  five  bloody  battles,  and  with  its  shat- 
tered remains  now  occupied  a  city  of  more  than  two  hun- 
dred thousand  hostile  inhabitants.  Every  moment  the 
hero  and  his  veterans  were  in  danger  of  being  overwhelmed 
by  numbers  no  human  strength  and  courage  could  resist, 
and  without  waiting  for  orders  in  a  case  so  plain  Gen. 
Lane  at  once  took  up  the  line  of  march  for  Mexico. 


238  BEKNABD     LILE. 


CHAPTER    XIV 

'•  All  was  prepared— the  fire,  the  sword,  the  men 

To  wield  them  in  their  terrible  array. 
The  army,  like  a  lion  from  his  den, 

March'd  forth  with  nerve  and  sinews  bent  to  slay — 
A  human  hydra,  issuing  from  its  fen 

To  hroathe  destruction  on  its  winding  way." 

THE  sun  of  an  October  morning  was  stealing  over  the 
hills,  bathing  in  its  rays,  rock  and  tree,  and  tower,  and 
temple.  Not  the  pale  sun  of  our  northern  clime,  cold, 
misty,  and  cheerless ;  but  the  bright  sun  of  the  tropics, 
bursting  from  its  ocean  bed,  in  all  the  gorgeous  beauty  of 
that  enchanted  land.  Upon  a  fair  city,  on  the  vast  "  table 
land"  of  Mexico,  that  sun  was  shedding  its  earliest  light. 
Not  yet  had  the  day's  toil  begun.  Not  yet  had  the  busy 
hum  of  life  roused  the  luxurious  sons  and  daughters  of  the 
far '  South  from  their  slumbers  in  the  balmy  air.  The 
stillness  and  the  silence  of  rest  was  about  it.  Even  as  the 
messengers,  in  the  vision  of  Zechariah,  who  came  to  the 
angel  of  4he  Lord,  that  stood  among  the  myrtle  trees,  and 
said,  "  We  have  passed  to  and  fro  through  the  earth,  and 
behold !  all  the  earth  sitteth  still,  and  is  at  rest."  Even 
so,  hour  by  hour,  through  the  night,  the  sentries  on  the 
ramparts  of  Huamantla  had  proclaimed,  "  all  is  well." 

Morning  came — such  a  morning  as  the  first  that  broke 
over  the  garden  "eastward  in  Eden."  Even  the  rude 
soldiery  of  the  guard,  shook  off  the  lethargy  of  the  night 
watch,  to  feast  their  souls  upon  its  glorious  beauty.  Never 
in  his  untold  wanderings  had  the  day-king  burst  upon  a 
lovelier  scene.  The  high  peaks  of  the  Cordilleras,  wrapt 
in  the  snowy  mantles,  borrowed  from  nature  centuries  ago, 


BERNARD     LILE.  239 

and  gleaming  in  the  mellow  sunlight,  with  that  unspeaka- 
ble lustre  that  almost  wins  us  to  adoration — the  wide 
plain,  teeming  with  fruits,  and  adorned  with  flowers — the 
great  city,  built  by  the  conquerors  ;  rich  in  all  the  works 
of  art,  glowing  with  all  the  gems  of  earth,  and  proudly 
claiming  to  be  the  fairest  child  of  the  brilliant  chivalry  of  a 
by  gone  age — the  deep  blue  sky,  added  to  the  fragrance 
of  the  early  morning,  together  made  a  Paradise  in  reality, 
far  brighter  than  any  creation  of  a  poet's  fancy. 

All  now  is  loveliness  and  peace ;  but  it  is  the  deceitful 
lull  of  the  air,  when  the  tempest  is  gathering  its  fearful 
array  for  the  battle  of  the  elements.  Not  alone  from  moun- 
tain top,  from  spire,  and  minaret,  flash  back  the  morning's 
beams.  There,  away  to  the  south-east,  glitters  a  long  line 
of  terrible  beauty.  In  the  far  distance,  it  seems,  as  it  winds 
through  fields  of  cactus,  like  a  pathway  of  molten  silver. 
Now  it  catches  the  glance  of  the  soldier  upon  yon  tower, 
and  for  him  the  loveliness  of  the  morning  has  faded,  for  to 
him  it  speaks  of  a  sterner  metal.  It  is  the  glancing  of  the 
sunbeam  on  musket,  and  bayonet,  and  sabre,  and,  beneath 
that  line  of  glowing  light,  the  dreaded  warriors  of  "  the 
States"  are  moving  on  the  doomed  city,  with  firm  and 
rapid  tread. 

Rouse  thee,  fair  denizen  of  that  lovely  city,  and  yet 
lovelier  land,  thy  dream  of  peace  is  at  an  end !  The 
splendid  panorama,  now  spread  out  before. thee,  will  soon 
be  swept  away  to  make  room  for  a  bloodier  landscape,  and 
the  eye  that  has  opened  from  slumber,  on  a  scene  which 
might  tempt  angels  from  the  skies,  will  close  upon  a  picture 
painted  by  the  fiends  of  hell. 

At  a  considerable  distance  from  the  great  national  high- 
way, and  of  no  absolute  importance  as  a  military  post,  the 
City  of  Huamantla  had  been  passed  unmolested  by  the 
invaders.  -There  it  lay  in  its  beauty,  and  its  pride;  un- 


240  BERNARD     LILE. 

marked  by  fire  or  sword,  and  unconscious  of  the  desolation 
which  was  approaching.  In  the  months,  of  August  and 
September  preceding,  the  decisive  battles  of  the  valley  had 
placed  General  Scott  in  possession  of  the  City  of  Mexico ; 
but  his  army,  at  all  times  much  too  weak  for  the  mighty 
undertaking  entrusted  to  his  management,  had  been  sadly 
weakened,  and  cut  to  pieces  on  the  bloody  and  unequal 
fields  over  which  he  had  won  his  victorious  way.  He  was 
a  conqueror  in  the  capitol  of  his  enemy ;  but  a  conqueror 
whose  mightiest  energies  had  been  taxed  to  the  uttermost, 
and  to  whom  rest  and  repose  were  as  necessary  as  grateful. 
Taking  prompt  advantage  of  the  crippled  condition  of  the 
Americans,  the  great  chief  of  the  Mexican  nation,  with  a 
tireless  energy,  and  a  military  skill  rarely  surpassed,  rapidly 
collected  the  remnants  of  his  beaten  armies,  and  precipitated 
himself  upon  Puebla,  a  post  that  had  been  for  some  time 
beleaguered  by  an  irregular  Mexican  force,  and  the  main- 
tenance of  which  was  of  the  last  importance  to  the  Ameri- 
can commander,  since  through  that  alone  his  communica- 
tions with  the  sea  coast  could  be  kept  open.  For  more 
than  thirty  days  the  roar  of  battle  resounded  through  its 
streets.  The  little  garrison,  under  Colonel  Childs,  was 
daily  wasting  away.  Disease  struck  down  the  strong  man, 
whom  the  cannot  shot  had  spared  ;  and  hunger  gnawed 
away  the  strength  no  fatigue  could  overcome.  Still  they 
fought  on ;  with  the  iron  nerve,  and  the  unyielding  ob- 
stinacy of  the  Anglo-Saxon  race,  they  repelled  assault  after 
assault,  calmly  bidding  defiance  to  danger  and  death  from 
without,  and  sternly  quelling  the  ceaseless  cravings  of 
hunger  and  thirst  within.  Every  soldier  was  aware  of  the 
immensity  of  the  stake  depending  upon  his  courage  and 
endurance.  All  looked  forward  to  the  probability  of  a  bloody 
grave,  but  none  ever  dreamed  of  a  surrender.  That  post 
might  become  the  burial  place  of  a  baud  of  heroes,  who 


BERNARD     LILE.  241 

were  worthy  to  have  stood  side  by  side  with  Leonidas  in 
the  pass  of  Thermopylae,  but  never  until  then  could  an 
enemy's  flag  wave  above  its  defences.  Suddenly  there  was 
a  cessation  of  active  operations  on  the  part  of  the  beseigers. 
The  iron  hail  of  the  past  thirty  days  was  succeeded  by 
a  comparative  calm.  Occasionally  only,  a  heavy  gun 
belched  forth  its  volumes  of  smoke  and  flame,  as  it  dis- 
patched a  winged  messenger  on  an  errand  of  destruction  ; 
while  long  intervals  marked  the  rattling  volleys  of  mus- 
ketry, and  escopetas.  The  stubborn  resistance  of  the 
garrison  had  accomplished  its  end.  Time  was  everything, 
and  time  had  been  gained  They  knew  not  how  near  at 
hand  was  the  assistance  they  had  longed  for — they  only 
knew  that  their  orders  were  to  maintain  the  post  at  every 
hazard ;  and,  if  no  assistance  ever  came,  they  were  thankful 
for  the  privilege  of  writing  another  glorious  chapter  in  the 
history  of  the  great  republic.  Not  so  with  the  Mexican 
leader.  Every  step  of  General  Lane's  progress  had  been 
reported  to  him.  Day  by  day  he  had  calculated  the  lessen- 
ing distance,  and  day  by  day  his  assaults  upon  the  Guartel 
had  been  more  determined.  Often  superintending  in  person 
the  direction  of  the  guns,  he  watched  with  intense  anxiety 
the  effect  of  every  shot,  and  the  result  of  every  assault ; 
still,  as  each  night  closed  in,  he  had  the  mortification  of 
finding  that  he  was  as  far  as  ever  from  the  accomplishment 
of  his  object,  and  that  his  greatest  efforts  had  only  suc- 
ceeded in  spreading  an  additional  feast  for  the  vultures, 
already  so  fully  gorged,  that  they  refused  to  banquet  on 
anything  but  the  eyes  of  the  slain.  The  reports  of  his 
scouts  .now  advised  him,  that  he  had  delayed  to  the  last 
moment  of  safety.  Instead  of  the  assailant,  he  was  about 
to  become  the  assailed  with  that  indomitable  garrison  on 
one  side,  and  a  fresh  army,  in  high  spirits,  and  burning  to 

21 


242  BERNARD     LILE. 

rival  the  almost  incredible  deeds  of  their  brethren  in  the 
valley,  on  the  other.  In  this  crisis  he  resorted  to  one  of 
those  masterly  manoeuvres  that  distinguished  the  whole  of 
his  operations.  He  was  an  enemy,  and  a  bitter  one,  but 
let  us  do  him  justice.  No  man  ever  lived  who  accomplished 
more  with  feebler  means.  No  campaigns  were  ever  better 
planned.  It  is  doubtful  if  the  impartial  critic  will  be  able 
to  detect  hereafter  a  single  serious  error.  It  is  true,  he  fail- 
ed signally  in  all  his  undertakings,  but  those  failures  flowed 
from  no  want  of  military  skill,  courage,  or  energy,  on  his 
part.  They  were  the  results,  rather,  of  circumstances  beneath 
whose  weight  Napoleon  would  have  been  crushed.  In  this, 
almost  the  very  last  of  his  military  operations,  he  vindicated 
his  right  to  the  title  of  a  great  commander.  Withdrawing 
all  his  disposable  forces  from  the  siege  of  Puebla,  he  moved 
silently  and  secretly  to  encounter  the  "  Marion  of  the  war." 
The  soldiers  of  the  northern  republic  had  won  a  terrible 
fame  in  the  bloody  campaigns  of  Mexico,  and  not  daring 
to  trust  his  own  men  in  an  open  encounter  with  an  enemy 
by  whom  they  had  been  so  ofteja  beaten,  he  left  only  a  small 
body  upon  the  high  road,  with  instructions  to  fall  back  as 
the  Americans  advanced.  With  the  main  body  he  moved 
himself  in  the  direction  of  Huamantla,  intending,  when 
Ge"n.  Lane  had  passed  that  point,  to  make  a  decisive  attack 
the  succeeding  night  upon  his  rear — the  body  in  front  hav- 
ing orders  to  assail  him  at  the  same  time  from  the  direction 
of  Puebla. 

Riding  at  the  head  of  the  column,  as  was  his  wont,  about 
mid-day  Gen.  Lane  ordered  his  bugler  to  sound  the  usual 
signal  for  an  army  on  the  march  to  halt,  and  rest.  Throw- 
ing his  bridle  reign  to  an  orderly,  he  took  refuge,  with  a 
portion  of  his  staff,  under  the  thick  shade  of  a  spreading 
tree,  to  partake  of  such  refreshment  as  the  time  allowed. 


BERNARD     LILE.  243 

A  piece  of  cold  beef,  a  hard  biscuit,  and  an  onion  from  a 
haversack,  with  a  supply  of  Mexican  aguardiente,  from  an 
India-rubber  canteen,  constituted  the  homely  fare  of  the 
republican  general.  While  thus  occupied,  Lile  and  Simp- 
son rode  up.  Nodding  familiarly  to  his  old  favorites,  the 
general  invited  them  to  get  down,  and  join  in  his  repast. 

"  This  aguardiente,"  he  added,  "is  not  the  best  liquor 
in  the  world ;  but  it  will  do  to  wash  down  dry  beef  and 
sea-biscuit,  when  no  better  is  to  be  had." 

Thanking  him  for  the  courtesy,  but  touching  very  lightly 
the  proffered  liquid,  Lile  continued, — 

"  We  have  come,  general,  to  ask  a  favor." 

"  Ah !  Well  that  is  something  which  does  not  happen 
often.  What  is  it  ?» 

"  With  your  permission,  we  propose  to  take  one  of  Do- 
minguez's  spies,  and  ride  on  as  far  as  Amazoque,  for  the 
purpose  of  learning  something  more  reliable  of  Santa 
Anna's  movements." 

A  shade  came  over  the  weather  beaten  visage  of  the 
general,  and  he  thought  deeply  before  he  replied. 

"It  won't  do,  Lile.  I  can't  afford  to  send  the  two  best 
men  in  my  army  on  such  a  desperate  errand.  Mexican 
light  troops  are  swarming  over  the  whole  country ;  your 
guide,  too,  would  betray  you  for  a  single  peso. " 

A  slight  smile  played,  for  an  instant,  on  the  haughty  lip 
of  the  daring  soldier. 

"  Pardon  me,  general,  but  you  over  estimate  the  danger. 
Simpson  and  I  are  better  armed,  and  better  mounted,  than 
any  caballeros  in  Mexico ;  and  ten  to  one  is  an  odds  we 
have  faced  before  now,  without  any  great  apprehensions." 

"Besides,  general,"  broke  in  the  Ranger,  "there  is  no 
danger  in  the  world  from  'the  Greaser.'  I  can  trust  him 
any  where." 


244  BEENAKD     LILE. 

"Don't  you  think,  Tom,"  asked  Gen.  Lane,  "that  a  man 
who  has  betrayed  his  country,  would  betray  any  thing  ?" 

"Undoubtedly  that's  my  opinion,  provided  he  didn't  have 
a  fore-knowledge  that  he  would  be  started  on  the  road  to 
kingdom  come  in  five  minutes  after  he  did  it.  But  this 
fellow,  Antonio,  knowed  me  on  the  Rio  Grande,  and  he's 
got  a  suspicion  in  his  head,  that  if  he  tried  to  play  me  any 
tricks,  his  kin  would  have  to  scrape  up  all  the  tlacos  they 
could  get  together,  for  the  Padre  to  pray  him  out  of 
purgatory." 

"  I  do  not  like  this,"  said  the  general,  again  addressing 
Lile,  "  the  risk  is  very  great ;  but  I  need  reliable  informa- 
tion sadly,  and  should  not  be  excusable  as  a  soldier  for 
rejecting  your  offer.  Go,  sir;  God  knows  I  have  not 
shunned  danger  myself,  when  our  country  demanded  it,  and 
I  will  not  baulk  your  wish  to  serve  her." 

Lile  bowed  his  thanks ;  but  Simpson  was  not  content  so 
to  part  with  the  officer  to  whom  he  was  attached  so  much. 

"  Good-bye,  general ;  the  captain  will  bring  you  all  the 
news,  and  if  there  is  any  thing  to  eat  between  here  and 
Amazoque,  or  in  the  town  either,  you'll  have  a  better  din- 
ner to-morrow  than  you  are  eating  to-day. " 

As  they  rode  away  they  were  joined  by  the  Mexican, 
who  had  halted  a  little  way  off  when  they  approached  the 
general,  and  the  three  men  were  soon  lost  to  view  in  the 
winding  of  the  road.  They  had  not  ridden  far  when  Lile 
inquired  of  the  guide  how  long  they  could  travel  the  main 
road  with  safety. 

"  Not  a  league,  senor,"  was  the  reply.  "  Padre  Jarauta 
is  at  El  Pinar,  and  his  lanceros  never  sleep." 

"  Well,  take  the  lead.  Choose  the  safest  paths,  but  push 
on  rapidly." 

This  injunction,  however,  was  much  easier  to  give  than 
to  obey.  The  cross  country  it  was  necessary  for  them  to 


BERNARD     LILE.  245 

pass  over,  was  often  filled  with  a  tangled  undergrowth  of 
thorns,  and  their  progress  was  still  further  delayed  by  the 
stone  fences  running  in  all  directions  through  the  country. 
At  nightfall  they  were  still  four  or  five  leagues  from  their 
destination.  A  heavy  bank  of  clouds,  that  had  long  been 
gathering  in  the  west,  now  spread  rapidly  over  the  horizon, 
and  broad  sheets  of  lurid  lightning,  growing  brighter  and 
brighter  at  each  successive  flash,  portended  that  a  tropical 
storm  was  at  hand. 

"We're  in  bad  luck,  captain,"  said  Simpson,  as  they 
leaped  their  horses  over  a  low  wall  of  loose  stone ;  "  not 
that  I  care  a  straw  for  the  rain,  or  the  wind,  or  the  dark- 
ness either,  if  we  only  knowed  the  land-marks  about  these 
'diggins  ;'but  Antonio  has  been  figuring  that  string  of 
beads  about  his  neck  for  a  full  quarter  of  an  hour,  and  I 
don't  believe  he  will  know  his  right  hand  from  his  left  in  a 
quarter  more.  The  devil  only  knows  where  he'll  carry  us, 
and  then,  if  he  takes  us  wrong,  I  shall  have  to  blow  his 
brains  out  upon  an  oncertainty. " 

"There  must  be  a  Hacienda  close  by,"  rejoined  his  com- 
panion, "and  we  will  stop  there  until  the  storm  is  over. 
Antonio,"  he  continued,  calling  to  the  Mexican  who  was 
still  in  advance,  "  do  you  know  any  Hacienda  near  at  hand 
where  we  could  obtain  shelter  from  the  storm  ?" 

"Si,  sewor." 

"  Take  us  there ;  and  mark  me,  speak  English  when  you 
address  either  of  us.  Remember,  that  we  are  deserters 
from  the  American  army,  and  do  not  understand  a  word  of 
Spanish. " 

The  guide,  whose  spirits  had  vastly  improved  at  the  pros- 
pect of  escaping  the  coming  tempest,  soon  brought  them 
to  the  heavy  gate  of  a  country  house,  surrounded  by  a  high 
wall,  crenelled  and  loop-holed,  for  defence  against  the 
robber  bands  who  infest  that  misgoverned  land.  At  the 

21* 


246  BERNARD     LILE. 

loud  summons  of  the  guide,  torches  and  lanterns  began  to 
flash  through  the  enclosure,  and  the  quick  hurrying  of  feet, 
in  different  directions,  spoke  rather  of  the  watchfulness  of 
a  beseiged  garrison,  than  the  calm  security  of  the  inmates 
of  a  peaceful  country  house.  After  a  long  parley,  and  a 
thousand  protestations  from  Antonio,  that  they  were 
"friends,"  "great  friends,"  the  massy  gate  swung  lazily 
back  on  its  iron  hinges,  and  our  party,  passing  underneath 
the  arch,  found  themselves  in  a  square  court,  planted  with 
flowers,  and  laid  off  in  tiny  walks,  with  a  cool,  clear  foun- 
tain bubbling  up  in  the  centre. 

In  the  same  enclosure,  separated  only  by  a  narrow  gravel 
walk,  the  stables,  the  poultry  house,  and  the  pig-stye,  pre- 
senting a  wide  and  disgusting  contrast,  to  these  evidences 
of  a  refined  and  cultivated  taste.  In  nearly  every  house  in 
Mexico,  may  be  witnessed  the  same  admixture  of  filth,  and 
cleanliness ;  of  order,  and  disorder ;  of  the  beautiful,  and 
the  disgusting.  It  is  the  struggle  of  intellect  and  refine- 
ment, against  governmental  misrule  and  priestly  supersti- 
tion. In  such  a  land  the  same  house,  of  necessity,  contains 
the  biped,  and  the  quadruped  :  for  there  alone  is  there  any 
assurance  of  safety  for  either  ;  but  the  fountain  played  by 
the  pig-stye,  and  the  flowers  blooming  around  the  dung 
hill,  have  each  a  voice  to  proclaim  how  high  in  the  scale 
of  civilization  the  people  might  attain  under  happier  auspices. 

By  the  time  the  clanking  sound  of  the  closing  gate  had 
died  away,  the  rain  came  pouring  down  in  torents,  and  the 
winds  howled  fiercely  around  the  solid  walls  of  the  Hacienda. 
Leaving  Antonio  to  tell  what  story  he  pleased  to  the  owner 
of  the  mansion,  our  two  friends  proceeded  directly  to  the 
stable  with  the  horses.  Like  true  soldiers,  their  first  care 
was  for  the  noble  animals,  whose  strength  and  speed  might 
at  any  moment  be  taxed  to  the  utmost.  Not  until  their 
glossy  hides  were  cleared  of  every  speck  of  dirt,  did  Lile 


BERNARD     LILE.  247 

and  Simpson  enter  that  part  of  the  building  designed  for  the 
exclusive  habitation  of  man.  In  the  meantime  Antonio  had 
learned  that  there  were  none  but  servants  about  the  establish- 
ment, under  the  control  of  a  superintendent ;  the  owner  of  the 
country  house  having  joined  the  army  of  Santa  Anna^  in 
Puebla,  with  most  of  the  peons  on  his  estate.  He  had 
also,  succeeded  in  impressing  upon  the  superintendent  a 
very  exalted  opinion  of  the  liberality  of  his  fellow  travelers, 
as  was  sufficiently  attested,  by  the  pains  he  had  taken  to 
prepare  a  supper  after  the  most  fastidious  Mexican  taste. 
Scarcely  had  the  substantial  repast  been  concluded,  when 
a  bugle  note  mingled  with  the  low  mutterings  of  the 
thunder  without.  The  superintendent  rushed  from  the 
room,  and  Antonio's  yellow  complexion  was  instantly 
changed  to  a  livid  white. 

"  What  does  this  mean  ?"  sternly  demanded  Lile. 

"  They  are  lanceros  of  the  body  guard,  Senor,  and  I 
shall  be  shot  in  less  than  an  hour  as  a  traitor." 

"  Quick  ;  to  the  gate,  and  see  how  many  there  are.  We'll 
save  you,  unless  there  is  more  than  one  troop  upon  us. 

When  the  Mexican  departed  upon  his  errand,  Simpson 
quietly  drew  his  revolver — set  it  upon  the  half  cock,  and 
with  his  thumb  and  forefinger,  turned  the  cylinder  twice 
round,  to  see  that  it  worked  smoothly  ;  then  loosening  his 
bowie  knife  in  the  sheath,  he  seated  himself  again  at  the 
table,  and  pouring  out  a  glass  of  pulque,  drank  it  off  with 
as  little  concern  as  if  he  had  been  in  the  heart  of  the 
American  camp.  His  business,  as  he  understood  it,  was 
simply  to  execute  whatever  plan  his  comrade  devised ;  and 
he  had  no  idea  of  troubling  his  head  with  useless  conjec- 
tures, before  his  orders  were  received.  Lile  walked  to  the 
door,  to  which  Antonio  now  returned  in  breathless  haste, 
to  announce  that  the  party  outside  consisted  of  one  teniente 
and  eight  soldados 


248  BERNARD     LILE. 

"  No  more  ?  Then  you  are  safe  enough,  and  need  not 
trouble  your  patron  saint  with  any  prayers  for  the  present ; 
but  mind  that  you  do  exactly  as  I  direct  you.  Keep  out 
of  their  sight,  and  when  the  lancers  are  quartered  for  the 
night,  go  to  the  stables  and  saddle  our  horses.  Yours  is 
a  sorry  brute,  and  I  advise  you  to  exchange  him  for  the 
best  one  in  their  troop." 

"  Si,  Senor,"  interposed  the  Mexican,  to  whom  this 
appropriation  of  another's  property,  appeared  the  most 
equitable  thing  imaginable. 

"When  you  hear  me  sing  'La  Ponchada,'"  continued 
Lile,  "  lead  the  horses  at  once  to  the  gate.  You  know 
the  words? 

'  Ya  no  »e  llaman  negros 

Los  hijos  de  Arragon  ; 
Se  llaman  defensores 
De  Isabel  de  Bourbon.'  " 

"  I  know  the  song  well,  Senor,  and  shall  not  forget." 
"  Now  begone.     I  will  manage  every  thing  else. " 
Returning  to  the  table  he  seated  himself  by  the  side  of 

Simpson,  and  said,  in  a  low  tone, 
"  You  heard  that  there  is  but  nine  of  them." 
"  Yes ;  and  unless  I  am  worse  mistaken  than  the  fellow 

that  burnt  his  shirt,  that's  just  nine  more  than  will  ever 

ride  out  of  this  caboose  with  whole  skins." 

"  It  may  come  to  that ;  but  we  must  try  and  take  the 

lieutenant  alive  to   Gen.  Lane.     It  will  be  worth  double 

the  lives  of  his  whole  regiment." 

"  Just  as  you  please,  captain,  only  let  me  know  what's 

to  do,  and  I'm  thar." 

The  lancers  had  now  effected  an  entrance  into  the  court 

yard.     The  troopers  made  their  way  to  the  stables  with 

the  horses.     The  officer,  preceded  by  the  temporary  host, 


BERNARD     LILE.  249 

took  shelter  from  the  inclemency  of  the  night  without 
delay.  At  the  door  he  stopped,  and  asked,  sharply, 

"  Who  have  w"e  here  ?" 

"  Two  American  deserters,  Senor,  on  their  way  to  join 
his  excellency,  the  President." 

"  Ah  I"  said  he,  lifting  the  scarlet  bonnet  from  his  head, 
and  shaking  the  rain  drops  from  its  lofty  plumes.  - "  I 
shall  have  the  pleasure  then  of  introducing  them  to  his 
excellency  myself." 

He  was  a  young  man,  who  had  apparently  seen  some 
service.  Like  most  of  his  countrymen  there  was  a  good 
deal  of  the  coxcomb  about  him,  but  his  manner  was  bold 
and  soldierly,  though  a  little  tinged  with  suspicion,  as  he 
addressed  our  two  friends  in  excellent  English. 

"  I  am  told,  Senors,  that  you  seek  his  excellency  Gen. 
Santa  Anna.  I  am  myself  bound  for  his  head-quarters. 
If  it  is  agreeable  to  you  we  will  ride  in  company." 

Lile  readily  expressed  his  assent  to  the  arrangement, 
together  with  his  gratification  at  having  accidentally  fallen 
in  with  so  excellent  an  officer. 

Numerous  questions  were  now  propounded  as  to  the 
strength  of  Gen.  Lane's  army  ?  What  proportion  of  troops 
were  regulars,  and  what  volunteers  ?  What  was  the  number 
and  size  of  his  guns  ?  What  was  his  cavalry  force  ?  Where 
he  had  encamped  for  the  several  preceding  days,  and  where 
he  had  now  probably  halted  ?  From  the  manner  the  an- 
swers were  received,  Lile  judged  correctly,  that  the  lieu- 
tenant was  already  perfectly  acquainted  with  Gen.  Lane's 
movements,  and  that  his  questions  were  put  more  for  the 
purpose  of  detecting  any  inconsistency  in  the  statements  of 
the  reputed  deserters,  than  that  of  acquiring  additional 
information.  Accordingly  his  answers  were  all  plain,  brief, 
and  strictly  true ;  but  the  Spanish  blood  is  by  nature  sus- 
picious, and  the  lieutenant  was  far  from  being  satisfied  that 


50  BERNARD     LILE. 

all  was  exactly  right.  His  non-commissioned  officer  had 
reported  to  him  for  orders,  and  been  instructed  by  him  to 
wait.  Apparently  satisfied,  he  rose  from  his  seat,  and  went 
out  to  the  apartment  occupied  by  his  men.  In  obedience 
to  a  sign  from  Lile,  Simpson  followed  him  with  noiseless 
steps.  He  returned  quickly,  and  said  with  a  shrug, — 

"  Humph !  He's  taking  as  much  pains  to  catch  us  as 
the  boy  took  to  catch  the  rattle-snake.  He  has  ordered 
the  sergeant  to  post  one  sentry  at  this  door,  and  one  at 
the  gate;  and  to  be  ready  to  march  at  four  o'clock." 

The  entrance  of  the  officer  put  an  end  to  further  remarks, 
and  soon  afterwards  they  were  aware  that  a  sentry  was 
posted  at  the  door.  Without  paying  any  attention  to  this 
unusual  precaution,  Lile  commenced  a  conversation  with 
the  Mexican,  and  gradually  drew  him  on  to  listen  to  many  a 
feat  of  chivalry,  and  many  a  tale  of  love  in  other  lands. 
Discarding  the  harsher  dialect  of  the  Saxon,  he  employed 
the  soft,  musical  tongue  of  Grenada,  to  tell  how  he  had 
stood  by  moonlight  in  the  shadows  of  the  Alhambra,  and 
listened  to  the  story  of  the  Cid,  of  Pelayo,  of  Bobadilla,  and 
the  long  line  of  heroes  who  had  rendered  Spain's  history, 
for  a  hundred  years,  the  wonder  of  the  world.  Mingled 
with  these,  were  descriptions  of  the  fair  hands  that  had 
braided  their  pennons  for  the  battle-field ;  of  the  bright  eyes 
that  welcomed  their  return ;  and  the  sweet  lips  that  repaid 
a  thousand  fold  the  wounds  of  war.  Eagerly,  as  the  young 
always  do  such  things,  the  lieutenant  drank  in  his  words. 
His  suspicious  had  fled ;  and  when  the  first  sentry  was 
relieved,  he  was  listening  with  wrapt  attention  to  the  rich, 
full  voice  of  Lile,  as  he  sang  with  melting  tenderness,  that 
sweetest  of  Spanish  songs, 

"  Cuando  me  Hainan  bonita, 
El  corazon  me  palpita." 


BEENARD     LILE.  251 

This  was  the  moment  for  which  Lile  had  waited.  He 
knew  that  it  would  be  two  hours  before  the  sentries  were 
again  visited,  and  during  that  time  every  thing  about  the 
Hacienda  would  be  buried  in  profound  repose.  Pretending 
to  be  much  engaged  with  the  lieutenant,  he  reached  his 
hand  to  the  pitcher  of  water,  and  purposely  spilled  the 
whole  of  its  contents.  With  an  ejaculation  as  to  his  own 
carelessness,  he  handed  the  pitcher  to  Simpson,  and  bade? 
him  refill  it  from  the  fountain  in  the  court.  Simpson 
advanced  to  the  threshold,  but  there  he  was  promptly 
halted  by  the  sentinel.  The  officer,  without  turning  his 
head,  sharply  ordered  the  soldier  to  "let  him  pass." 
Simpson  stepped  out,  pulling  the  door  after  him.  The 
sentry  turned  away  with  a  muttered  caramba.  The  next 
instant  the  heavy  stone  pitcher  was  swung  aloft — it 
descended  with  a  dull,  crashing  sound,  and  the  sentry 
sank  into  eternal  sleep  upon  his  post.  Almost  at  the 
same  moment,  Lile  had  seized  the  lieutenant  with  one 
giant  hand,  and  pressing  the  other  on  his  mouth,  sternly 
whispered, — 

"Attempt  to  move,  or  utter  a  syllable,  and  you  are  a 
dead  man." 

By  the  time  Simpson  had  moved  the  dead  soldier  from 
the  door-way,  the^JVlexican  officer  was  securely  bound  and 
gagged.  But  the  Banger  paused  not  to  see  what  success 
had  attended  his  companion.  With  the  stealthy  step  of  a 
cat  he  entered  the  gloomy  arch  of  the  gateway.  When  he 
reappeared  his  arm  was  crimsoned  to  the  elbow  with 
blood.  Entering  the  room,  and  cautiously  closing  the 
door,  he  said, — 

"  All  is  ready  except  another  horse,  and  that  we  must 
have.  If  I  go  to  the  stable,  that  coward  Antonio  will 
either  hide  himself,  or  make  some  cursed  blunder  that  will 
betray  us." 


r* 

252  BERNARD     LILE. 

"  That  is  easily  remedied,"  answered  Lile,  "  I  will  give  the 
signal,  and  carry  this  young  gentleman  to  the-.gate.  When 
Antonio  conies,  I  will  keep  on  the  outside  until  you  join  us." 

Extinguishing  the  light,  he  sang  the  first  stanza  of  "  La 
Ponchada,"  and  lifting  the  Mexicaa  in  his  arms  carried 
him  quickly  to  the  gate.  Antonio  soon  came  out,  and 
before  they  had  fastened  the  officer  securely  on  the  horse 
the  guide  had  selected  for  himself,  Simpson  also  appeared, 
leading  another.  The  storm  had  cleared  way,  and  the 
stars  shone  clear  and  bright  in  the  heavens.  Lile  noticed 
Simpson  tying  something  to  his  saddle-bow  as  he  mounted, 
and  inquired  what  it  was. 

"Nothing  but  a  cotton  bag,"  was  the  reply,  "containing 
two  chickens  and  a  goose.  I  promised  the  general  he 
should  have  a  good  dinner  to-morrow,  and  I  don't  like  to 
break  my  word  ;  especially  to  as  clever  a  fellow  as  he  is. " 

Under  the  guidance  of  Antonio,  the  party  made  directly 
for  the  National  road.  Rapidly  they  pressed  on — not  from 
fear  of  pursuit,  but  in  order  to  reach  the  American  en- 
campment before  the  army  was  put  in  motion.  Simpson, 
who  was  leading  the  captive's  horse,  took  advantage  of 
the  first  smooth  piece  of  ground  to  offer  him  all  the  conso- 
lation his  situation  admitted  of. 

"  Make  yourself  easy,  lieutenant,  '  Old  Lane '  is  as  clever 
a  fellow  as  ever  trod  shoe  leather,  and  though  I  don't 
know  what  he  wants  with  you,  I'm  dead  sure  he'll  treat 
you  according  to  Ounter.  A  fellow  that's  tied  and  gagged, 
must  feel  mighty  uncomfortable,  I  know,  but  you  aint  the 
first  one  that  ever  was  fixed  that  way,  when  no  great  harm 
was  meant  to  him.  The  old  general  has  got  a  soft  heart 
in  that  rough  carcase  of  his,  and  its  seldom  he's  hard  on 
any  thing  but  a  thief  or  a  coward." 

The  consolatory  harangue  of  the  Ranger  was  cut  short 
by  a  sharp  challenge,  "  who  goes  there,"  followed  by  the 


BERNARD     LILE.  253 

rattling  of  a  musket  brought  suddenly  from  a  shoulder  to 
a  ready. 

"  Friands,  with  a  prisoner." 

"  Stand  friends.  Advance  one  friend,  and  give  the 
countersign." 

Lile  explained  that  they  had  been  out  upon  a  scouting 
expedition,  by  direction  of  the  general,  and  were  not  in 
possession  of  the  countersign. 

"  Stand  where  you  are.  Officer  of  the  guard  ;  number 
five." 

The  words  ran  along  the  line  until  they  were  caught  up, 
and  repeated  by  the  sentry  at  the  guard  tent.  The 
steady  tramp  of  marching  men  followed,  and  very  soon, 
Lile  and  his  party,  were  admitted  within  the  lines,  and 
furnished  with  a  guide  to  the  general's  quarters. 

It  was  hardly  one. in  the  morning,  but  the  general  was 
already  astir ;  examining  with  his  adjutant  general,  a  map 
spread  upon  a  mess  chest  in  his  tent.  Lile  entered  with 
his  prisoner.  A  half  hour  passed.  The  form  of  the 
adjutant  general  emerged  from  the  canvass  screen.  A  few 
brief  orders  were  given.  Aids  hurried  in  different  direc- 
tions. A  bugle  sounded  the  reveille.  Drum  and  fife, 
and  brass  band,  answered  the  signal.  Light  after  light 
glimmered  over  the  plain.  The  human  hive  was  roused, 
and  woe  be  to  those  upon  whom  its  anger  fell. 

Gen.  Lane  had  learned  all  the  plans  of  his  enemy,  and 
with  the  prompt  decision  of  his  character,  he  put  his  army 
in  motion ;  abandoned  the  road  to  Puebla,  and  marched 
directly  upon  Huamantla.  Wholly  unconscious  of  this 
unexpected  movement  of  his  active  and  vigilant  foe,  Santa 
Anna  was  approaching  the  same  point  from  another 
direction. 

The  morning  of  the  9th  of  October  came,  and  the  startled 
citizens  looked  out  upon  a  field  glittering  with  the  bur- 

22 


254  BERNARD     LILE. 

nished  arms  of  a  gallant  host,  in  their  war  array.  Ignorant 
of  the  near  approach  of  their  countrymen  under  Santa 
Anna,  and  deeming  resistance  hopeless,  white  flags  were 
immediately  displayed  from  the  house  tops,  and  the  steeples 
of  the  churches.  The  gallant  Walker,  who  commanded  the 
advance,  at  once  entered  the  city  with  his  small  band  of 
"mounted  rifles." 

"  I  thought,"  said  the  rifleman,  turning  to  Lile,  who 
rode  by  his  side,  "  that  we  should  be  certain  to  have  a 
battle  here  that  would  do  to  talk  about  in  the  States,  but 
the  cowardly  dogs  don't  mean  to  give  us  any  chance  for 
glory  to-day. " 

"  We  may  have  our  mettle  tried  sooner  than  you  expect," 
replied  his  companion,  pulling  the  thick  buckskin  gauntlet 
from  his  right  hand,  and  for  the  first  time  drawing  his 
sabre.  "I  do  not  like  the  signs.  There  are  too  many 
heads  above  the  parapets  of  the  houses.  The  women  have 
all  left  the  windows,  and  yonder  is  a  strong  body  of  horse 
hastily  forming  on  the  Plaza.  Keep  your  men  well  together, 
and  move  slowly." 

So  saying  he  reined  up,  and  with  his  unsheathed  sword, 
beckoned  Simpson,  who  was  considerably  in  the  rear,  to 
come  up. 

"  Keep  near  to  Walker,  Tom.  He  will  need  our  help 
directly.  These  '  rifles  *  are  new  recruits,  and  know 
nothing  about  the  old  Ranger  mode  of  fighting ;  while 
Walker  understands  no  other.  He  will  be  killed  unless — " 

The  remainder  of  the  sentence  was  lost  amid  the  rattling 
of  musketry,  and  the  infuriated  cries  which  ran  along  the 
whole  length  of  the  street. 

"  Close  up  men,"  shouted  Walker,  "and  charge." 

They  did  charge  but  it  was  upon  their  own  destruction. 
Shielded  by  the  houses,  the  Mexicans  poured  volley  after 
yolley,  into  their  lessening  ranks  ;  while  from  the  parapets 


BERNARD     LILB.  255 

above,  huge  masses  of  stone  were  incessantly  thundered 
upon  their  devoted  heads.  In  a  few  seconds  the  dauntless 
captain  rode  almost  alone.  A  hand  was  laid  upon  his 
bridle,  and  the  calm  voice  of  Lile,  calmest  ever  amid  the 
roar  of  battle,  sounded  in  his  ear. 

"  Are  you  mad  ?  your  men  are  nearly  all  dead.  You 
must  back  with  me,  if  you  would  live  to  avenge  this 
treachery." 

With  a  bitter  malediction  the  infuriated  officer  permitted 
his  horse's  head  to  be  turned  towards  the  gate.  Some 
distance  down  the  street,  a  little  squad  of  the  rifles  had 
formed  in  something  like  regular  order,  and  were  contend- 
ing with  desperate  courage  against  overwhelming  odds. 
Placing  himself  at  the  head  of  these,  Walker  again  gave 
the  order  to  charge.  The  words  were  yet  on  his  lips  when 
a  musket  ball  struck  him  on  the  breast.  The  reins  deserted 
his  hand,  and  he  reeled  like  a  drunken  man  in  the  saddle. 
With  a  wild  shout,  a  body  of  horsemen  rushed  from  a  cross 
street,  and  threw  themselves  upon  the  shattered  ranks  of 
the  Americans.  The  lance  of  the  leading  file  struck  the 
dying  captain  in  the  face,  and  hurled  him  from  his  steed. 
Lile  reached  his  side  too  late  to  save,  but  time  enough 
to  avenge  him.  Through  bonnet  and  skull,  down  to  where 
the  neck  and  shoulder  join,  bit  the  forceful  steel.  Not 
for  an  instant  did  he  pause  where  the  luckless  lancer  fell. 
Right  through  the  bloody  press  he  cleft  his  dreadful  way. 
The  friend  whose  blanket  he  had  shared  by  the  camp-fire 
— whose  last  tortilla  he  had  divided  at  the  mess  table,  had 
been  butchered  before  his  eyes,  and  all  the  fiend  was  roused 
within  him.  Right  and  left  flashed  that  crimson  sabre. 
Right  and  left  heads,  and  arms,  and  men,  and  steeds  were 
falling  around  him.  Appalled  at  the  wide  havoc  of  a 
single  arm,  the  boldest  lancers  turned  and  fled.  Loud  and 
clear  rang  his  voice  above  the  din. 


256  BERNARD     LILE 

"  Retreat,"  he  shouted  to  the  rifles,  who  still  desperately 
maintained  their  ground.  "  Cut  your  way  through  the  foot. 
Simpson  and  I  will  keep  back  the  lancers  until  the  gate  is 
gained." 

The  Mexican  cavalry,  who  had  drawn  off  a  short  dis- 
tance, were  reformed,  and  again  thundered  to  the  charge. 
Simpson  was  now  by  the  side  of  Lile.  They  waited  not  to 
receive  the  shock,  but  striking  their  spurs  deep  in  their 
horses'  flanks,  with  the  rush  of  an  avalanche  met  the  ad- 
vancing tide.  The  light  small  horses  of  Mexico  went  down 
like  wisps  of  straw,  before  the  battle  chargers  of  the  States. 
Again  the  lancers  broke  and  fled,  and  two  men  were  the 
victors  over  a  hundred. 

"Let  us  be  off,  Tom,"  said  Lile,  "the  few  rifles  who  are 
left,  have  passed  the  gate,  and  we  have  sent  enough  ghosts 
to  join  Walker  on  his  dreary  journey." 

"  By  the  Lord,"  rejoined  Simpson,"  if  they  travel  the 
same  road  he  does,  they  will  have  to  fight  every  inch  of  the 
way  to  the  other  world." 

At  the  gate  they  found  a  young  rifleman  sitting  with  his 
back  against  the  wall,  and  bis  pistol  in  his  hand.  To  an 
inquiry  as  to  what  he  was  doing  there,  he  answered, 

"  My  horse  is  dead.  My  leg  is  broke,  and  I  can't  get 
any  further.  Tell  the  general  to  say  to  my  mother,  when 
he  gets  home,  that  I  died  fighting  to  the  last,  as  my  grand- 
father did  at  Lundy's  lane." 

"Gallant  boy!"  exclaimed  Lile,  "I  hope  you  will  live 
many  a  year  to  tell  this  day's  story  yourself." 

Leaning  forward,  he  seized  the  wounded-soldier  with  his 
sinewy  hand,  and  lifted  him  to  the  saddle-bow,  as  easily  as 
if  he  had  been  an  infant.  Touching  his  steed  with  the 
spur,  he  flew  across  the  plain  to  where  the  American  army 
was  drawn  up  in  battle  array.  He  now  learned,  that  soon 
after  the  advance  guard  had  entered  Huamantla,  Santa 


BERNARD     LILE.  257 

Anna  had  appeared  in  sight,  and  the  sudden  hope  inspired 
by  this  circumstance,  had  caused  the  treacherous  assault  in 
the  city. 

As  they  lighted  from  their  jaded  steeds,  he  noticed  that 
Simpson  walked  with  difficulty,  and  the  color  had  entirely 
deserted  his  cheek. 

"  Are  you  hurt,  Tom  ?"  he  inquired,  anxiously. 

"  Yes,  sorter.  I've  got  a  bullet  through  my  left  arm, 
and  a  tolerable  deep  furrow  in  my  side ;  ploughed  there 
by  one  of  them  cursed  poking  sticks,  no  Christian  people 
would  use.  But  I  reckon  the  fellow  that  did  it  got  full 
pay,  for  it's  my  opinion,  I  cut  his  backbone  clear  in  two  as 
he  went  by,  after  jobbing  me  with  that  d d  long  iron- 
headed  stick." 

When  General  Santa  Anna  drew  out  ,into  the  plain 
before  Huamantla,  he  found  himself  suddenly  confronted 
by  the  American  forces.  Confessedly  unable  to  cope  with 
his  enemy  on  an  equal  field,  he  labored  under  the  additional 
disadvantage  of  being  forced  into  a  battle,  under  circum- 
stances amounting  to  a  complete  surprise.  In  such  a  con- 
test victory  could  not  be  a  moment  doubtful.  He  was 
quickly  beaten  at  all  points,  and  forced  to  take  refuge  in 
the  mountains.  Now  came  the  hour  of  retribution  for  the 
treacherous  city.  The  sacred  emblem  of  peace  had  been 
stained  with  blood,  and  the  usages  of  all  wars  gave  up  the 
offenders  as  a  "  prey  to  the  spoiler."  It  is  fearful  to  see  a 
soldiery  fevered  with  victory,  turned  loose  to  pillage  and 
to  slay.  Then,  and  then  only,  the  red  demon  of  war  is 
clotffed  in  all  his  horrors.  Vengeance,  lust,  hate,  and 
rapine,  walk  abroad  unrestrained,  and  the  air  is  tortured 
with  a  mingled  discord  of  horrible  sounds,  that  might  shame 
the  builders  of  Babel  into  silence.  The  dull  grating  noise 
of  the  sharp  steel,  as  it  bites  through  skull  and  brain — the 
vengeful  shout  of  the  slayer — the  despairing  shriek  of  the 

22* 


258  BERNARD     LILE. 

agonized  victim — the  clatter  of  muskets  and  pick-axes — 
the  crash  of  falling  doors  and  windows — the  ringing  shot, 
and  the  muttered  curse,  are  fit  accompaniments  to  deeds 
the  furies  might  look  upon  and  envy. 

All  day,  through  that  fair  city,  the  work  went  on.  All 
day  the  fierce  license  of  the  soldiery  was  unrestrained,  and 
yell  and  groan,  and  prayer,  and  curse — the  death-shot — 
the  shriek  of  the  virgin,  and  the  wail  of  the  infant  rose 
mingling  up  to  heaven.  The  sun  went  down ;  and  now, 
the  wild  notes  of  a  solitary  bugle  pealed  shrill  and  clear 
upon  the  air.  Then  from  each  regiment,  battalion,  and 
corps,  the  hoarse  drum  sent  forth  its  summons.  The  blood- 
hounds were  called  off  from  their  prey.  The  lawless  pas- 
sions of  the  hour  before  were  stilled  at  the  stern  mandates 
of  an  iron  discipline.  The  feast  of  death  was  at  an  end. 
The  last  mellow  tints  of  the  golden  sunset  melted  from  the 
sky ;  star  after  star  came  forth,  and  it  was  night  in  Hua- 
mantla.  A  night  of  strange  and  fearful  contrasts  ;  of 
beauty,  and  of  desolation.  Without  the  walls,  thousands 
of  homeless  wretches — old  men,  women,  and  children,  were 
shivering  in  the  night  air,  while  near  at  hand,  a  horde  of 
hungry  wolves  were  feasting  on  the  dead  bodies  of  the 
slain.  The  savage  growls  of  the  ferocious  animals  mingled 
horribly  with  the  low  moans  of  the  wounded.  At  intervals 
a  sharp  cry  of  agony  would  rise  above  all  other  sounds,  aa 
a  ravenous  beast  fastened  his  fangs  upon  some  unfortunate 
being,  in  whom  the  vital  spark  was  not  yet  entirely  extinct. 
Within  the  walls,  whole  streets  were  literally  McAdamized 
with  fragments  of  broken  glass,  china,  and  gilded  pflrce- 
lain.  The  costliest  furniture,  shivered  to  pieces,  was 
scattered  every  where  around ;  and  groups  of  soldiers  were 
cooking  their  suppers,  or  washing  off  the  stains  of  carnage 
by  the  light  of  fires  fed  with  mahogany  and  rosewood, 
which  had  adorned  palaces  that  morning.  Here  and  there 


BERNARD     LILE.  259 

a  smouldering  mass  of  ashes,  a  blackened  wall,  or  a  smok- 
ing rafter,  marked  where  a  stately  mansion  once  stood,  and 
a  happy  family  gathered  about  the  hearth-stone.  In  other 
quarters,  the  red  glare  of  the  still  burning  houses,  revealed, 
with  horrid  distinctness,  the  mangled  bodies  of  the  dead ; 
and  shed  a  sickening  light  upon  the  dark  pools  of  blood 
that  dotted  the  ground.  Occasionally  a  faithful  dog  would 
crawl  out  from  his  hiding  place,  and,  smelling  around  the 
carcase  of  his  dead  master,  send  up  a  long  and  mournful 
howl ;  but  beyond  this  no  living  thing  was  moving  in 
Huamantla,  save  the  fierce  soldiers  who  had  made  it  a 
desert. 

So  passed  the  first  hours  of  the  night.  Again  that 
solitary  bugle  sounds  its  piercing  signal,  and  from  each 
separate  command,  the  beat  of  the  "tattoo"  proclaims  that 
it  is  the  hour  of  silence,  and  of  rest.  Strange  power  of 
discipline !  There  was  not  one  coward  in  all  that  host. 
Not  one,  who,  under  the  eyes  of  his  comrades,  would  not 
have  moved  on  certain  destruction  with  an  unfaltering  step. 
Not  one  who  would  have  obeyed  the  order  of  a  monarch 
on  his  throne.  Not  one  who  had  not  that  day  done  deeds, 
at  the  bare  recital  of  which  the  blood  runs  cold.  Yet  there 
was  a  spell  in  the  mandates  of  that  stirring  music,  that  bent 
every  feeling  to  instant  obedience.  Its  last  notes  had 
scarcely  died  away,  before  every  sound  was  hushed,  and 
every  soldier  had  thrown  himself  upon  the  soft  couch  the 
day's  plunder  had  procured.  With  his  hands  dyed  red  with 
blood — among  the  homes  he  had  desolated — in  the  very 
midst  of  the  ruins  he  had  Wrought ;  he  laid  himself  down 
to  dream  of  his  own  peaceful  home.  He  who  had  that 
day  made  widows  and  orphans  by  the  score,  murmured  a 
blessing  upon  his  own  wife,  and  little  ones,  far  away  in  his 
native  land ;  and  his  last  waking  thoughts  were  of  the  joy 
and  gladness  his  return  would  impart. 


260  BERNARD     LILE. 

Slumber  spread  its  mantle  over  the  conquerors.  The 
armed  tread  of  the  sentry,  ringing  on  the  stone  pavement, 
or  crashing  sharply,  as  it  crushed  to  atoms  some  costly 
article  of  luxury,  alone  broke  the  stillness  of  the  night. 
And  now  from  garret  and  cellar,  and  secret  hiding  place, 
stole  forth  the  frightened  citizens,  who  had  escaped  the 
day's  violence,  vainly  hoping,  under  cover  of  the  darkness, 
to  escape  beyond  the  walls,  and  join  their  countrymen  in 
the  mountains.  Along  the  dark  alleys ;  close  in  the  shadows 
of  the  houses ;  over  the  dead  bodies  of  their  kindred  ; 
through  puddles  of  blood,  slowly,  and  painfully  they  crawled 
along.  At  each  opening,  the  clear  starlight  revealed  the 
form  of  a  sentry  on  his  post,  and  the  startled  fugitives 
shrank  back,  to  try  another,  and  another  avenue,  and  be 
again,  and  again  disappointed.  Poor  fools  !  you  cannot 
pass  that  argus  line,  nor  would  it  profit  you  to  do  so. 
You  would  only  escape  from  the  company  of  the  dead,  who 
feel  not ;  to  that  of  the  living,  whose  own  woes  leave  no  room 
for  sympathy  with  yours.  Be  still,  and  you  are  safe.  No 
one  will  harm  you  now.  The  fever  in  the  blood  of  the 
victors  has  subsided,  and  the  most  pitiless  of  that  host 
would  share  with  you  the  contents  of  his  haversack,  or 
cover  you  with  his  blanket. 

With  the  first  light  of  the  morning,  the  American  general 
was  on  his  march.  Stretched  in  an  ambulance,  upon  the 
softest  couch  the  plundered  city  could  supply,  lay  the  giant 
form  of  the  veteran  Ranger.  Reining  his  fiery  courser 
back  to  the  slow  pace  of  the  mule  team,  Lile  was  riding 
thoughtfully  by  his  side. 

"  Captain,"  said  the  Ranger,  putting  aside  the  curtain  of 
the  rude  conveyance,  "  you  say  poor  Walker  was  decently 
put  away. " 

"Yes,  Tom,  all  was  done  that  a  soldier  could  do." 

"  That's  some  comfort.     But  I  wish  all  the  ashes  of  that 


BERNAED     LILE.  261 

d d  town,  mixed  up  with  all  the  blood  spilt  in  it,  had 

been  piled  over  him  for  a  tombstone. " 

"  The  monument  would  have  been  a  high  one,  Tom,  for 
everything  in  Huamantla,  that  would  burn,  is  ashes  now ; 
and  never  in  the  old  world,  or  the  new,  have  I  seen  a 
bloodier  spot  than  that  within  those  walls. " 

"  I  reckon  so  ;  and  I'm  glad  of  it.  But  I'm  glad  too  I 
had  no  hand  in  it." 

"  You  are  right,  my  friend.  Blood  shed  in  any  but  our 
country's  battles,  or  our  own  just  defence,  is  a  dark  thing 
to  think  of.  You  will  sleep  the  sounder  hereafter  for 
striking  no  blow  after  resistance  ceased.  The  punishment 
of  treachery  is  needful,  but  the  office  of  executioner  is  a 
thing  to  be  avoided  if  possible." 

"  Was  any  of  the  wimen  folks  hurt  ?" 

"  I  do  not  know.  There  are  bad  men  in  every  army, 
and  a  bad  man,  turned  loose  on  such  a  day  as  yesterday, 
will  do  anything." 

.  "By  God,  if  I  had  seen  a  fellow  lay  his  hand  upon  a 
gal,  except  in  kindness,  I  would  have  mashed  his  skull,  if 
he  had  been  the  general's  own  brother. " 

"  So  would  I,  Tom ;  but  it  might  have  happened  without 
my  seeing  it." 

The  thoughts  of  the  Ranger  now  took  another  direction. 
The  wild  melee,  in  which  his  comrade  had  put  forth  all  his 
terrible  strength,  was  again  before  him.  There  was  a  fierce 
exultation  in  his  voice,  as  he  said, 

"  That  charge  you  made  when  Walker  fell,  was  a  thing 
to  be  proud  of.  I  wouldn't  have  missed  seeing  it  for  a 
thousand.  Them  fellows  must  have  thought  hell  had  busted 
loose  ;  and  I  reckon  they  wasn't  fur  wrong  either.  That 
first  one  you  struck,  set  his  horse  five  seconds  after  his  head 
tumbled  on  his  shoulders ;  and  the  side  of  his  face  that  fell 
next  to  me,  looked  like  he  hadn't  made  up  his  mind  whether 


262  BERNARD     LILE. 

he  was  killed  or  not.  I  have  had  a  hand  in  a  good  many 
fights  in  my  time,  and  ought  to  know  something  about 
them  ;  and  I  am  keen  to  swear  there's  no  ten  men  in  Jack 
Hays's  regiment  could  do  what  you  did." 

"Pshaw,  you  did  as  much  yourself." 

"  No  I  didn't.  I  never  saw  the  day  I  was  able.  What's 
more,  if  it  hadn't  been  for  you,  I  should  have  been  sleeping 
with  Walker,  instead  of  riding  along  here  on  the  softest 
bed  I  ever  laid  upon.  I  wish  to  God  you  would  tell  me 
where  you  were  brought  up  :  and  why  it  is  that  no  living 
thing  can  hurt  you." 

"  I  may  tell  you  all  about  myself  some  day ;  but  the 
story  is  too  long  and  too  sad  to  be  repeated  here.  Now 
rest.  You  have  talked  enough  for  a  wounded  man. " 

As  he  spoke,  the  bridle  rein  was  slackened — the  impatient 
animal  cleared  the  ambulance  at  a  bound,  and  the  Ranger 
was  left  to  his  own  reflections. 


BERNARD     LILE.  263 


CHAPTER    XV 

"  The  city  is  taken — only  part  by  part — 

And  death  is  drank  with  gore ;  there's  not  a  street 
,  Where  fights  not  to  the  last  some  desperate  heart, 

For  those  for  whom  it  soon  shall  cease  to  beat. 

Here  war  forgot  his  own  destructive  art 

In  more  destroying  nature." 

THE  Mexican  army,  beaten  before  Huamantla,  was  too 
much  disorganized  to  be  again  reassembled.  It  was 
scattered  to  the  four  winds  of  heaven.  A  considerable 
detachment  having  taken  refuge  in  Atlisco,  General  Lane 
resolved,  if  possible,  to  surprise  it,  or  failing  in  that,  at 
least  to  capture  the  munitions  and  supplies  there  collected. 
It  was  near  sunset  when,  after  a  long  and  fatiguing  march, 
his  column  appeared  in  sight  of  the  town.  The  hurried 
ringing  of  bells,  and  other  notes  of  preparation,  indicated 
that  a  desperate  resistance  was  contemplated.  Ignorant 
of  the  nature  of  the  defences,  and  willing  moreover  to  give 
his  wearied  army  the  repose  they  so  much  needed,  the 
American  general  determined  to  delay  the  assault  until 
the  following  day.  Disposing  his  little  force  in  such  a 
manner  as  to  command  the  approaches  by  the  main  roads, 
the  men  were  ordered  to  lie  down  upon  their  arms,  and 
await  the  reappearance  of  daylight.  In  the  meantime  the 
citizens  were  in  a  state  of  the  most  dreadful  apprehension. 
Believing  from  the  disposition  of  the  American  army,  and 
the  known  character  of  its  commander,  that  a  night  assault 
was  intended,  sleep  fled  from  their  eyelids,  and  hurrying 
feet  and  moaning  cries  gave  token  of  the  wild  disorder 
within.  The  garrison  exhibited  a  weakness  almost  as 
abject.  Afraid  even  to  trust  a  patrolling  party  beyond 


264  BERNARD     LILE. 

the  walls,  they  resorted  to  the  expedient  of  throwing  out 
fire-balls  at  brief  intervals  to  light  up  the  space  around 
them,  and  enable  them  to  detect  an  approaching  foe.  The 
invaders  did  not  fail  to  notice  these  evidences  of  unmanly 
fear,  and  augured  rightly  that  the  morrow's  work  would 
be  a  light  one.  Major  Lally,  a  giant  New  Englander,  as 
much  distinguished  for  unfailing  good-humor,  as  for  daunt- 
less courage,  turned  to  a  brother  officer,  with  a  broad  grin 
upon  his  countenance — 

"  It  is  my  opinion  that  old  Lane  is  violating  the  consti- 
tution of  our  country." 

"  How  so  ?" 

"  He  is  inflicting  cruel  punishment  upon  the  soldados 
in  yonder  town,  and  I  think  Gen.  Scott  ought  to  court- 
martial  him  for  frightening  the  poor  devils  so  unmerci- 
fully." 

"  What  the  devil  would  you  have  him  do,  major  ?"  was 
the  laughing  rejoinder.  "Do  you  want  him  to  march  in 
and  quiet  their  fears  by  cutting  their  throats  by  the  light  of 
burning  houses  ?" 

The  brow  of  the  gallant  soldier  darkened. 

"No,"  he  said,  "there  was  enough  of  that  done  at  Hua- 
mantla.  Yile  and  treacherous  as  they  are,  and  richly  as  they 
deserved  it,  I  hope  never  to  see  another  sight  like  that." 

"It  is  not  the  first  time  they  have  deserved  it,  major. 
For  twelve  long  years  they  have  broken  treaties,  murdered 
prisoners,  robbed  and  burned  defenceless  houses,  and  I  am 
glad  they  have  learned  at  last  that  mercy  may  be  over- 
taxed. 

"  I  guess  you  are  right.  I  do  not  mean  to  question  it ; 
but  I  do  not  want  to  have  blood  shed  in  that  way  upon  my 
hands.  I  would  rather  let  Padre  Jarauta  practice  at  me 
forty  days  more  with  his  escopets." 

You  might  do  that  without  any  great  risk,  unless  the 


BERNARD     LILE.  265 

doctor  slanders  you.  He  swears  that  the  bullet  which 
struck  you  at  the  National  Bridge,  was  mashed  as  flat  as  a 
pan-cake,  and  that  it  made  no  more  impression  on  your 
jaw-bone  than  if  it  had  been  shot  against  an  iron  column." 

"  I'll  make  an  impression  on  his  with  my  knuckles,"  re- 
plied the  major,  with  a  good-humored  smile,  "if  he  con- 
tinues to  repeat  that  story.  By  the  Lord,  I  did  not  eat  a 
pound  of  meat  for  a  week,  or  drink  a  drop  of  whiskey  for 
double  that  time.  I  would  like  to  see  him  put  upon  such 
rations,  if  he  thinks  it  is  a  thing  to  be  laughed  at." 

"  He  would  rather  charge  the  heaviest  battery  at  Atlisco 
by  himself  to-  morrow.  By  the  way,"  he  continued,  "  speak- 
ing of  Padre  Jarauta,  what  message  was  that  you  received 
from  him  at  Jalapa  ?" 

"  I  sent  him  word,  by  an  officer  who  had  come  in  with 
a  flag,  that,  after  shooting  at  me  forty  days  in  succession, 
I  thought  I  was  entitled  to  a  good  dinner  at  his  hands.  He 
sent  me  in  a  lamb  and  a  turkey,  with  an  apology  for  the  bad 
marksmanship  of  his  men  ;  saying,  they  were  new  recruits, 
but  he  was  drilling  them  daily,  and  hoped,  that  by  the  time 
I  started  for  Perote,  they  would  be  able  to  hit  a  man  of 
my  size  with  tolerable  certainty. " 

With  a  light  laugh  his  companion  walked  away,  and  the 
major  stretched  his  huge  form  upon  the  ground,  and  slept 
until  the  signal  bugle  once  more  waked  the  slumbering 
host  to  conquest  and  to  glory. 

A  little  more  than  half  a  mile  from  the  walls  of  Atlisco 
there  was  a  deserted  Hacienda,  to  which  was  atttached  a 
small  chapel  with  an  enclosed  grave-yard.  Within  this 
yard  two  companies  of  horse  had  taken  up  their  temporary 
quarters.  It  was  night  when  they  entered,  and  picketing 
their  horses  as  well  as  the  darkness  allowed,  they  dropped 
down  to  sleep  among  the  silent  graves.  When  morning 

23 


266  BEENABD     LILB. 

came,  Bernard  Lile  found  that  he  had  been  reposing  on  a 
tomb-stone,  which  bore  the  inscription, — 

"  El  s'epulchro  de  mi  madre." 

With  a  feeling  of  bitter  contempt,  the  soldier  ran  his  eye 
over  the  letters.  "  My  mother's  grave,"  he  muttered. 
"  Shame  upon  the  coward  wretch  who  had  feeling  enough 
to  rear  this  monument,  but  lacked  the  nerve  to  defend  it. 
The  hand  which  traced  these  words  was  in  all  probability 
trembling  behind  that  town's  defences,  while  the  slab  its 
owner  ought  to  have  died  to  protect  from  insult,  was  the 
couch  of  a  foreign  foe.  Great  God  will  such  a  people  long 
be  permitted  to  hold  dominion  over  the  fairest  portion  of 
the  globe  ?  Will  the  eagles  now  perched  upon  its  hill 
tops,  or  screaming  over  its  valleys,  again  wing  their  flight 
to  the  northward  of  the  Rio  Grande  ?  Will  party  strife  at 
home,  or  a  weak  fear  of  senseless  censures  from  abroad, 
recal  the  immortal  army  which  has  planted  the  standard 
of  the  republic  upon  the  regal  hill  of  Chepultepec,  and 
flung  its  glorious  folds  to  the  breeze  from  the  halls  of  the 
murdered  Montezumas  ?  A  high  mission  will  be  unfulfilled 
if  one  foot  of  the  Aztec  empire  is  restored  to  the  despot 
and  his  slaves.  A  great  work  will  have  to  be  commenced 
anew  ;  but  it  will  be  commenced,  and  it  will  be  completed. 
This  land  was  not  made  to  be  the  home  of  those  who  will 
not  defend  the  spot  where  reposes  a  mother's  remains." 

The  Mexicans  had  kept  up  the  amusement  of  throwing 
out  fire  balls  upon  the  plain  until  near  midnight ;  by  that 
time  the  little  courage  they  possessed  had  completely  oozed 
out.  First,  one  or  two  at  a  time,  then  larger  groups,  slunk 
off  along  the  narrow  sheep  paths,  and  made  their  way  into 
the  country.  At  daybreak  not  a  soldier  remained  in  the 
town.  Without  firing  a  gun,  Gen.  Lane  marched  in,  and 
took  possession  of  the  public  property  they  were  too  much 
terrified  to  destroy. 


BERNARD     LILE.  267 

Affairs  had  by  this  time  assumed  such  a  shape  in  the 
valley  of  Mexico  as  to  remove  all  immediate  necessity  for 
additional  troops,  and  Gen.  Scott  ordered  Gren.  Lane  to 
assume  the  governorship  of  the  department  of  Puebla,  and 
establish  his  head-quarters  in  that  city  of  mobs  and  pronun- 
ciamentos.  The  repose  thus  granted  enabled  Lileto  devote 
his  whole  time  to  Tom  Simpson,  whose  wounds  turned  out 
to  be  much  more  grievous  than  he  anticipated.  A  strong 
constitution  aided  by  care,  and  skilful  treatment  brought 
him  back  from  the  brink  of  the  grave.  He  began  to 
recover,  and  Lile  was  enabled  to  calculate  almost  the 
exact  time  when  the  stout  backwoodsman  would  be  able  to 
ride  by  his  side  through  the  ranks  of  war.  In  the  mean- 
time Col.  Hays  had  landed  at  Vera  Cruz  with  his  Rangers, 
and  was  making  his  way  up  to  the  new  field  of  adventure 
before  him.  The  Mexican  government  had  been  removed 
to  Queretaro,  and  the  American  Commander-in-chief  was 
industriously  engaged  in  organizing  and  drilling  the  new 
recruits  sent  out  by  the  States,  preparatory  to  following 
the  steps  of  the  flying  congress.  The  rich  mining  regions 
were  as  yet  untouched,  and  a  full  harvest  of  glory  was  still 
anticipated  by  the  hardy  soldiers  of  the  republic.  They 
knew  not  that  petty  intrigues  were  at  work  in  Washington 
to  darken  the  laurels  the  hero  had  gathered,  and  deprive 
his  country  of  nearly  all  the  fruits  of  his  hard  won  vic- 
tories. 

In  the  month  of  November  Col.  Hays  came  up  with  his 
Rangers,  an4  after  a  series  of  brilliant  services,  which  it 
does  not  fall  within  the  scope  of  this  history  to  record,  was 
ordered  to  the  city  of  Mexico.  With  them  went  Lile  and 
Simpson.  That  regiment  was  the  home  to  which  they  had 
been  accustomed — the  men  with  whom  they  were  familiar, 
and  to  whom  they  were  bound  by  the  strongest  ties.  More- 
over it  was  there  alone  they  were  annoyed  by  no  disagree- 


268  BERNARD     LILE. 

able  regulations,  and  fettered  by  no  troublesome  require- 
ments. 

Three  leagues  from  the  city  of  Mexico,  a  high  hill  rises 
out  of  the  lake  Tezcuco — the  great  causeway  through  the 
lake  touches  its  base — around  this  hill  the  Mexicans  had 
drawn  three  tiers  of  works,  and  filled  them  with  cannon. 
The  strength  of  the  position  had  induced  Gen.  Scott  to  go 
south  about,  and  approach  the  city  from  the  side  of  Chepul- 
tepec.  It  was  now  in  the  possession  of  the  Americans,  and 
the  formidable  batteries  had  all  been  removed.  At  this 
place  the  rangers  halted  for  the  night.  John  Glanton  was 
standing  on  the  causeway  examining  with  the  curiosity  of 
a  first  comer  the  hill,  the  lake,  the  great  city,  and  the 
towering  mountains  around.  A  heavy  hand  was  laid  upon 
his  shoulder,  and  Tom  Simpson  said,  in  a  voice  which 
boded  mischief. 

"  Do  you  remember,  John,  taking  a  regular  wolf  snap  at 
my  ear  on  the  bank  of  the  San  Juan,  at  Monterey  ?" 

"  Can't  say  I  recollect  anything  of  the  kind,"  answered 
Glanton,  laughing,  and  trying  at  the  same  time  to  jerk 
away  from  the  grasp  that  held  him. 

"  I'll  see  if  I  can't  refresh  your  memory." 

Stooping  with  a  quick  motion  he  seized  him  by  the  leg 
of  the  pantaloons,  and  raising  him  in  his  sinewy  arms 
pitched  him  out  into  the  lake. 

Practical  jokes  were  too  common  in  that  rude  camp,  and 
Glanton  knew  the  stout  hunter  too  well  to  exhibit  the  least 
ill-temper,  he  struggled  out  of  the  lake,  and  scrambled  up 
the  causeway,  swearing  it  was  a  "d — d  careless  trick." 

"  Why  the  devil,"  he  said  "  didn't  you  give  me  notice,  so 
that  I  could  have  pulled  off  my  revolver,  and  bowie  knife. 
This  water  is  as  salt  as  the  Gulf  of  Mexico,  and  I  shall 
have  two  hours  hard  work  to  keep  my  documents  from 
spoiling  with  rust.' 


BERNARD     LILE.  269 

"It  took  my  ear  more  than  two  hours  to  get  well, 
Johnny,  but  if  you  have  got  anything  fit  to  eat  for  supper 
in  your  mess  I  will  go  with  you,  and  help  you  clean  up." 

Scenes  like  these  were  of  almost  daily  occurrence,  and 
instead  of  serving  as  a  pretext  for  the  fierce  brawls  that 
not  unfrequently  disturbed  other  regiments,  they  bound  the 
individuals  closer  together  and  made  that  wild  camp  a 
model  of  brotherly  kindness.  For  one  Ranger  to  possess 
a  days  rations,  or  a  canteen  of  aguardiente,  while  another 
was  destitute,  was  something  they  never  learned  to  com- 
prehend. From  the  Colonel  down,  everything,  except  their 
horses,  revolvers,  and  knives  were  common  property.  These 
alone  were  sacred  from  any  but  the  owner's  touch.  The 
lonely  frontier,  where  these  soldiers  were  made,  is  now 
thickly  peopled  by  inhabitants  as  dissimilar  from  the  first 
settlers  as  it  is  possible  to  imagine.  Ten  years  in  the 
history  of  any  other  nation  passes  unmarked  and  unnoted. 
Ten  years  in  America  works  out  mighty  results.  This  day 
twenty  years  ago,  (March  19th,)  the  roar  of  battle  swept 
over  the  prairie  between  the  San  Antonio  and  the  Coleto, 
and  there  were  none  to  listen  to  the  booming  cannon,  as  it 
sent  death  through  the  devoted  ranks  of  the  patriot  band 
under  Faunin,  save  the  wild  deer,  and  the  wild  horse  which 
fattened  among  the  flowery  meadows  the  footsteps  of  man 
seldom  pressed.  To-day  a  city  casts  its  shadows  upon  the 
turbid  waters  of  the  Rio  Grande  two  hundred  miles  to  the 
westward,  and  all  between,  the  springing  crops,  and  the 
grazing  herds  proclaim  that  the  old  Ranger's  occupation 
is  gone.  Not  now  is  heard  the  gathering  song, 

'Mount,  mount  and  away, 

O'er  the  green  prairies  wide, 
The  sword  is  our  sceptre, 
The  fleet  steed  is  our  pride.' 
23* 


270  BERNARD     L  I  L  E . 

A.  new  race  has  come  to  take  the  place  of  the  old.  Are 
they  better  ?  No.  Are  they  more  useful  ?  No.  Have 
they  added  to  the  nation's  strength,  or  the  nation's  real 
wealth  ?  No.  Let  dreaming  moralists,  or  sickly  senti- 
mentalists preach  as  they  may,  the  strong  arm,  the  bold 
heart,  the  life  in  the  open  air,  the  generosity  that  was  never 
overtaxed,  and  the  friendship  that  never  grew  weary,  are 
poorly  exchanged  for  the  Dutch  traffickers  in  tallow  and 
cheese,  who  have  settled  in  the  old  homes  of  the  free  rovers 
of  the  prairie. 

An  army  of  twenty  thousand  men  was  now  assembled  in 
the  City  of  Mexico.  The  license  of  men  unfettered  by  any 
restraints  except  those  of  military  discipline,  made  the 
splendid  capital  anything  but  a  pattern  of  morality.  At 
the  Sociedad,  and  at  the  Bella  Union,  there  assembled 
nightly  a  throng,  who,  in  the  absence  of  the  feverish  ex- 
citement of  the  battle-field,  eagerly  trod  the  no  less  fiery 
mazes  of  pleasure.  In  one  suite  of  apartments  the  gambler 
established  his  head-quarters.  Billiards,  roulette,  faro, 
monte,  and  other  games,  held  out  their  tempting  baits,  and 
hooked  their  victims.  In  another,  all  the  delicacies  that 
could  gratify  the  female  palate  were  exhibited.  In  another 
were  to  be  found  the  stronger  stimulants,  better  suited  to 
the  taste  of  the  Northern  soldiery.  In  still  another  a  regi- 
mental band  sent  forth  its  music ;  but  the  stirring  notes  of 
the  charge  have  died  away,  and  it  is  the  soft  waltz  that 
now  floats  upon  the  air.  The  brilliant  uniforms  of  the 
officers  are  glittering  in  mingled  radiance  with  the  flashing 
jewels  that  decorate  the  brows,  and  arms,  and  necks  of  the 
dark  eyed  Senoritas.  Voices,  which  have  been  heard  above 
the  cannon's  roar,  are  softened  to  a  lover's  pleading ;  and 
arms  that  had  shattered  ranks  of  steel,  now  gently  encircled 
tapering  waists,  whose  lines  of  perfect  symmetry  wooed 
the  fond  caress.  Around  the  cool  fountains  of  the  Ala- 


BERNARD     LILE.  271 

raeda,  where  the  struggling  moonlight  makes  its  way  in 
scattered  patches  to  the  earth,  loving  couples  have  stolen 
away  to  bowers,  which  even  the  bright  eyes  of  the  stars 
cannot  penetrate,  and  there  drink  from  luscious  lips  a 
nectar  sweeter  than  the  dew  of  Hermon,  or  the  dew  that 
descended  upon  the  mountains  of  Zion. 

In  these  light  scenes,  it  is  needless  to  say  that  Bernard 
Lile  did  not  mingle.  To  him  the  fountain  of  pleasure  was 
as  bitter  as  the  waters  of  Marah,  and  he  turned  from  it  in 
sad  and  severe  reproof.  Other  employments  better  suited 
to  his  taste  were  at  hand. 

The  seventeenth  of  February,  eighteen  hundred  and 
forty-eight,  was  a  stirring  day  in  the  City  of  Mexico.  For 
sometime  rumors  had  been  afloat  that  the  general-in-chief 
was  about  sending  an  expedition  upon  some  secret  service, 
the  nature  of  which  none  knew,  but  the  character  of  the 
officer  to  whom  the  command  was  assigned,  gave  assurance 
of  new  dangers  to  be  encountered,  and  new  honors  to  be 
won.  In  a  large  army,  a  report  of  the  kind  never  fails  to 
excite  the  liveliest  emotions.  Situated  as  the  American 
forces  then  were,  these  emotions  acquired  a  degree  of  in- 
tensity seldom  equalled.  The  hardy  veterans,  who  had 
waded  through  fire  and  blood  to  the  capital  of  Mexico, 
wearied  with,  a  "  dull  repose,"  were  burning  for  new  oppor- 
tunities to  gather  the  laurels  of  war ;  while  their  less  fortu- 
nate countrymen,  who  had  been  denied  participation  in  the 
great  battles  of  the  preceding  campaign,  were  hurrying 
from  the  Sociedad  to  Paoli's,  and  from  Paoli's  to  Laurent's, 
vainly  endeavoring  to  ascertain  if  at  last  there  was  "  a 
chance"  for  them. 

On  the  morning  of  the  ITtli,  it  was  made  known  that  the 
detachment  was  to  consist  of  the  Rangers,  under  Colonel 
Hays,  part  of  the  third  dragoons,  and  one  company  of 
mounted  rifles,  under  Major  Polk,  and  a  few  officers  from 


272  BERN  A  ED     LILE. 


different  corps,  who  had  obtained  leave  to  join  the  expedi- 
tion as  volunteers.  There  is  less  of  selfishness  in  the 
character  of  the  American  soldier  than  in  that  of  any  other 
living  thing.  Those  who  expected  to  be  detailed  for  the 
service,  and  were  disappointed,  naturally  gave  vent  to  their 
feelings  in  a  few  deep  and  bitter  curses  ;  but  the  next  im- 
pulse was  to  hurry  up  and  congratulate  their  more  fortunate 
fellow-soldiers.  In  giving  and  receiving  these  congratula- 
tions, together  with  the  cordial  interchange  of  friendly  sen- 
timents, the  time  passed  gaily  enough  until  the  hour  of 
parting  arrived.  Then  came  clustering  memories  of  hard- 
ships and  perils  encountered  together,  of  kind  words  spoken, 
and  of  good  deeds  performed  through  all  the  changeful 
drama  of  a  soldiers'  life.  Hands,  joined  it  might  be  for  the 
last  time,  lingered  in  each  other's  clasp.  Bold  hearts  felt 
an  inward  sinking,  and  cheeks  were  blanched  that  had 
never  paled  at  the  cannon's  flash,  as  injunction  after  injunc- 
tion was  laid  upon  those  who  remained,  to  send  this  or 
that  article  to  a  mother,  or  a  sister,  or  a  wife,  if  the  chances 
of  battle  should  cut  off  its  owner,  and  his  body  be  left  to 
moulder  beneath  a  foreign  soil. 

The  parting  cup  was  pledged  and  many  a  fervent  "  God 
bless  you,"  mingled  with  the  bugle  notes  that  sounded  the 
"  advance."  The  gallant  troops  filed  into  the  street  leading 
to  the  "  great  causeway,"  through  the  Garita  of  El  Pinon, 
and  were  soon  lost  to  view.  For  the  purpose  of  deceiving 
the  Mexican  spies,  or  at  least  of  leaving  them  in  total 
uncertainty  as  to  his  intended  route,  Gen.  Lane  moved 
steadily  along  the  road  to  Vera  Cruz  as  far  as  the  Hacienda 
of  San  Felipe.  Returning  upon  his  footsteps  during  the 
night  he  made  a  dash  to  the  right,  hoping  by  forced 
marches  to  surprise  the  town  of  Tulancingo,  at  which  place 
Paredes,  Almonte,  and  Padre  Jarauta  were  then  understood 
to  be  arranging  some  plan  of  operations  against  the  Ame- 


BERNARD     LILE.  273 

rican  forces.  Early  on  the  morning  of  the  22d  he  entered 
the  town  without  resistance,  the  enemy  having  by  some 
means  obtained  information  of  his  approach,  and  hurriedly 
evacuated  the  place.  The  bed  in  which  Paredes  had  slept 
was  still  warm,  but  the  bird  had  flown.  Allowing  a  brief 
rest,  to  recruit  his  men  and  horses,  the  indefatigable  parti- 
zan  was  in  the  saddle  on  the  night  of  the  23d  moving  with 
his  accustomed  celerity  on  Zicaultiplan,  a  town  to  the 
northward  of  Tulancingo,  whither  Padre  Jarauta  with  his 
force  of  lancers  had  retired.  A  night  march  over  a  broken 
and  mountainous  country  is  decidedly  the  most  distasteful 
duty  in  a  soldier's  career.  The  light  laugh  and  the  free 
jest,  or  the  gay  notes  of  a  joyous  song,  which  rob  the  day 
of  a  portion  of  its  fatigues,  are  all  wanting  now.  Every 
thing  catches  from  the  night  its  sombre  hues ;  and  the 
muttered  imprecation,  as  a  clumsy  horse  tumbles  to  his 
knees,  or  a  hanging  branch  scratches  unexpectedly  across 
the  face,  is  almost  the  only  sound  that  breaks  the  stern 
silence  of  the  riders.  Darkly  through  that  wild  region 
toiled  on  the  warriors  of  the  States :  now  clambering  the 
rough  sides  of  a  lofty  mountain  :  now  skirting  the  edge  of 
a  dark  chasm,  where  one  misstep  would  plunge  horse  and 
rider  into  an  abyss  of  unknown  depth  :  now  recoiling  from 
the  brink  of  a  deep  baranca  which  the  darkness  had  hidden 
from  view,  and  painfully  searching  for  a  crossing  place 
among  stones,  brush,  and  thorny  cactus  :  now  sliding  down 
a  sharp  descent,  and  anon  moving  at  a  qubk  trot  along  a 
level  space,  the  curses  of  the  troopers,  and  the  snorting  of 
the  frightened  horses,  giving  place  to  the  jingling  noise  of 
the  steel  scabbards  striking  against  spur  and  stirrup.  In 
the  midst  of  such  impediments  and  discomforts  slowly  wore 
away  the  night.  At  day-break  the  general  seized  upon  a 
mountain  Hacienda,  and  placing  strict  guard  over  every 
inmate  of  the  establishment  to  prevent  them  from  spreading 


274  BERNARD     LILE. 

a  report  of  his  movements,  gave  the  order  for  rest  and 
refreshment.  With  the  night  the  toilsome  march  was 
resumed,  over  a  country  even  more  wild  and  rugged  than 
that  they  had  already  crossed  with  so  much  labor  and  peril, 
but  obstacles  to  men  like  them  are  only  incentives  to  greater 
exertion,  and  when  the  light  streaks  of  dawn  began  to 
appear  in  the  east,  on  the  morning  of  25th,  they  were  in 
full  view  of  the  town.  It  had  never  entered  the  head  of 
Jarauta  that  so  small  a  force  would  venture  so  far  into  the 
interior  over  roads  impracticable  for  artillery.  His  lancers 
were  for  the  jnost  part  unarmed,  and  watering  their  horses 
in  the  little  stream  near  the  town  when  Gen.  Lane  came  in 
sight.  The  alarm  soon  spread,  and  preparations  were 
rapidly  made  to  receive  the  adventurous  Americans. 
Entering  at  a  gallop  at  the  head  of  his  command  the 
general  was  saluted  by  a  heavy  fire  from  a  cuartel  on  the 
right,  which  proclaimed  that  the  famous  guerilla  chief, 
though  surprised  and  taken  at  advantage,  was  determined 
to  dispute  the  ground  with  his  usual  desperate  courage. 
Detaching  a  company  of  Rangers  to  engage  and  destroy 
this  outpost,  the  general  passed  on,  side  by  side  with  the 
daring  Hays,  into  the  heart  of  the  town.  From  the  house- 
tops, from  the  doors  and  windows  on  each  side  of  the 
street  a  storm  of  bullets  was  poured  upon  them.  Returning 
the  fire  of  the  Mexicans  only  by  an  occasional  shot  when 
some  eager  assailant  incautiously  exposed  his  person,  the 
Americans  pushed  forward  with  nnabated  rapidity  for  the 
main  plaza.  Here  they  were  encountered  by  a  body  of 
lancers  under  Jarauta  in  person ;  but  as  well  might  a 
feeble  barrier  of  sand  be  expected  to  stay  the  current  of 
the  mighty  Mississippi.  On  went  the  Rangers,  neither 
sword  nor  lance  in  the  right  hand,  but  in  lieu  thereof  the 
terrible  revolver,  ready  poised  for  its  bloody  work.  A 
little  nearer,  and  without  a  word  of  command ;  without  a 


BERNARD     LILE.  275 

signal,  save  the  example  of  their  leader,  they  poured  in 
their  deadly  fire,  and,  with  a  wild  shout,  burst  with  irresis- 
tible fury  on  the  Mexican  ranks.  Down  went  horse  and 
rider — down  went  lance  and  guidon.  Like  a  tempest  the 
men  of  the  States  swept  over  them,  and  the  gay  uniforms 
of  the  lancers,  their  red  bonnets  and  gaudy  plumes  carpeted 
the  stone  pavements  of  the  plaza.  For  the  success  of  this 
charge  Col.  Hays  had  relied  on  the  bone  and  muscle  of 
his  horses  even  more  than  the  dauntless  intrepidity  of  his 
men.  The  enemy  once  broken  and  scattered,  the  battle 
became  a  succession  of  single  combats  in  which  man  after 
man  went  down  before  the  fire  of  the  revolvers  with  appal- 
ling rapidity.  Not  a  single  lancer  was  unharmed.  Jarauta 
himself  was  twice  wounded,  and  finally,  after  doing  all  that 
courage  and  conduct  could  effect,  made  his  escape  almost 
by  a  miracle. 

In  the  meantime  Major  Polk  was  not  idle.  Dismounting 
his  rifles  he  entrusted  to  them  the  duty  of  storming  a  cuartel 
where  a  party  of  the  enemy  were  quartered,  and  charging 
himself  with  the  remainder  of  his  command  along  the  street 
beyond  the  plaza,  encountered  and  cut  to  pieces  a  body  of 
the  enemy  in  that  direction.  Here  the  sharp  sabre  did  its 
silent  work,  and  the  track  of  the  dragoons  could  be  dis- 
tinctly traced  by  the  mangled  bodies  that  lined  the  way. 
At  one  place  a  lancer,  cloven  through  bonnet  and  skull, 
cumbered  the  street — close  by  him  was  stretched  a  comrade 
with  his  head  nearly  severed  from  his  body,  and  the  blood 
gushing  in  dark  torrents  from  the  veins  and  artery  through 
which  the  keen  blade  had  glided.  A  little  further  on,  a 
horse  cut  clown  by  a  sabre  stroke  was  gasping  his  life 
away,  while  his  master  was  groaning  in  concert  from  a 
ghastly  wound  passing  through  from  breast  to  back. 
Along  the  whole  street  the  fierce  horsemen  had  left  bloody 
tokens  of  their  presence. 


276  BERNAKD     LILE. 

In  still  another  quarter  of  the  town  a  little  squad  consisting 
of  Truett,  Chevallie,  Lile,  Simpson,  and  four  or  five  others, 
were  slowly  driving  before  them  a  Mexican  force  of  more 
than  ten  times  their  number.  '  These  were  old  Rangers  of 
the  prairie  and  mountain,  to  whom  a  deadly  conflict  was 
an  everyday  occurrence,  and  whose  perfect  coolness  enabled 
them  to  take  advantage  of  every  post,  stone,  and  door- 
facing.  Armed  with  revolvers  they  had  a  fearful  advantage 
in  the  narrow  street,  over  the  escopetas  of  the  foe,  and 
fearfully  did  they  use  it.  Thirty-one  Mexicans  killed  or 
wounded  attested  the  fatal  accuracy  and  efficiency  of  their 
weapons.  Pressing  the  enemy  into  a  yard  surrounded  by 
a  high  stone  wall,  and  entering  with  them,  with  the  daring 
confidence  of  men  who  had  tried  each  other  in  a  thousand 
scenes  of  carnage,  steadily  and  coolly  they  gathered  in  the 
harvest  of  death.  The  enclosure  proved  to  be  the  stable 
yard  of  a  Posada  in  which  were  piled  up  large  stacks  of 
straw  for  the  use  of  the  muleteers  of  that  mountain  region. 
Both  parties  sought  to  avail  themselves  of  the  protection 
these  stacks  afforded,  and  the  consequence  was  that  the 
combustible  material  was  soon  ignited  by  the  flashes  of  the 
fire  arms.  Rapidly  the  flames  were  communicated  to  the 
thatched  roofs  of  the  adjoining  buildings.  The  most 
dreaded  of  the  elements  had  come  to  the  aid  of  man  in  his 
work  of  destruction,  and  vast  volumes  of  flame  leaping  over 
alleys  and  streets,  rolled  on  from  house  to  house.  Women 
and  children  lost  their  terror  of  the  Americans  before  this 
new  and  remorseless  enemy,  and  throwing  open  their  doors 
and  windows  rushed  wildly  into  the  streets.  The  mother 
with  her  babe  clasped  to  her  breast ;  the  young  girl  with  her 
long  hair  floating  over  neck  and  shoulders  ;  the  little  child 
bare  headed,  and  its  feet  dabbled  in  blood,  it  might  be  that 
of  a  father — with  shrieks,  and  tears,  and  prayers  for  mercy, 
fled  before  the  devouring  element.  Silently  the  stern 


BERNARD     LILE.  277 

warriors  to  whom  death  was  a  plaything,  gave  way  before 
the  distracted  throng.  Silently  they  let  the  helpless  human 
tide  pass  on  to  seek  shelter  in  the  neighboring  haciendas. 
All  felt  that  any  offer  of  protection,  or  any  effort  at  conso- 
lation would  be  a  mockery  ;  but  many  a  heart  unused  to 
pity  swelled  to  the  very  throat,  and  many  a  bloody  hand 
instinctively  put  away  the  weapons  of  war  as  the  piteous 
crowd  swept  by. 

The  business  of  the  day  was  over — Jarauta's  band  were 
dead  or  captive,  and  Zicaultiplan  fast  crumbling  into  ashes. 
Collecting  his  scattered  troops  in  the  main  plaza,  around 
which  the  stone  buildings  with  their  tiled  roofs  were  imper- 
vious to  fire,  Gen.  Lane  made  his  dispositions  for  a  day  of 
repose.  The  town  burned  on — heavy  masses  of  smoke 
hung  in  dark  clouds  above — the  dying  and  the  dead  were 
around ;  but  amid  all  the  soldier  threw  his  tired  limbs  upon 
his  bed  of  blankets,  and  slumber,  sweeter  than  an  infant's 
in  its  cradle,  chased  away  all  memory  of  the  carnage  and 
the  strife — all  thought  of  the  living  wretches  whose  homes 
were  ashes. 


24 


278  BERNAKD     LILE. 


CHAPTER    XYI. 

"  They  laid  him  in  the  earth,  and  on  his  breast, 
Besides  the  wound  that  sent  his  soul  to  rest, 
They  found  the  scattered  dints  of  many  a  scar, 
Which  were  not  planted  (here  in  recent  war , 
Where'er  hod  paia'd  his  summer  years  of  life, 
It  seems  they  vanishM  -in  a  land  of  strife; 
But  all  uakiio«  n  his  glory  or  his  guilt, 
These  only  told  that  somewhere  blood  was  spilt." 

ON  the  peak  of  a  high  mountain,  about  seventy  miles  to 
the  northward  of  the  city  of  Mexico,  four  men  were  seated 
around  a  table  in  a  Hacienda,  on  which  were  placed  a 
roasted  turkey  a  platter  of  tortillas,  and  a  stone  pitcher  of 
pulque.  The  four  consisted  of  Bernard  Lile,  Tom  Simp- 
son, John  Glanton,  and  a  lieutenant  of  volunteers  who  had 
accompanied  Gen.  Lane's  expedition  as  an  amateur.  The 
general  himself  had  pushed  on  with  Hay's  Rangers  and 
Folk's  Dragoons  to  Pachuca,  where  Col.  Withers  was  quar- 
tered with  a  regiment  of  infantry,  a  field  battery,  and  two 
companies  of  the  3d  dragoons. 

"  Guajolote,  I  think  you  said  this  place  was  named,"  said 
Glanton,  helping  himself  to  the  wing  of  the  turkey. 

"Hacienda  del  Guajolote,"  replied  the  lieutenant. 

"Well,  by  God,"  rejoined  the  Ranger,  "there  never  was 
a  place  more  appropriately  named.  Turkey  is  the  only 
meat  to  be  had  about  the  premises,  and  the  infernal  Greaser 
says  that  is  all  we  can  get  in  the  morning. " 

"  You  are  getting  dainty,  John,"  put  in  Simpson  ;  "  I've 
seen  the  time  when  you  would  have  thanked  God  for  such 
a  meal  as  this." 

"  Very  likely  you  have,  Tom ;  and  very  likely  you  will 
again.  But  I  know  a  greater  variety  is  to  be  had  here, 


BERNARD     LILE.  279 

and  I'll  be  d — n — d  if  I  don't  have  it  in  the  morning,  or 
I'll  put  your  mark  on  this  fellow's  ears." 

"  There  must  be  no  violence,  John,"  quietly  remarked 
Bernard  Lile ;  "  at  least  while  you  are  with  me.  Gen. 
Lane  is  already  seriously  vexed  at  the  accidental  burning 
of  Zicaultiplan.  The  Mexicans  will  charge  him  with  burn- 
ing it  designedly,  and  we  must  not  do  any  thing  to  give 
color  to  the  accusation." 

The  supper  was  concluded  without  further  conversation, 
when  .the  party  adjourned  to  the  stables  to  make  a  final 
inspection  of  their  horses  before  retiring  for  the  night. 
No  armed  parties  of  Mexicans  had  been  heard  of  in  that 
vicinity  since  the  capture  of  Zicaultiplan,  and  it  was 
believed  that  no  roving  baud  would  dare  to  show  itself  so 
near  the  American  forces.  It  was  therefore  more  from 
habit  than  any  belief  of  its  necessity  that  a  sentry  was 
posted  over  the  horses,  while  the  other  three  returned  to 
the  Hacienda,  and  threw  themselves  upon  the  couches 
which  had  been  prepared  for  them  by  the  sullen  and 
moody  host.  The  room  they  occupied  appeared  to  have 
but  one  entrance,  which  opened  upon  the  square  court 
inside,  immediately  fronting  the  stables,  but  about  mid- 
night Bernard  Lile  was  startled  by  a  gleam  of  light  from 
the  opposite  side  of  the  room ;  raising  himself  upon  his 
elbow,  he  observed  a  concealed  door  slowly  opening  in  the 
wall,  and  directly  afterwards  a  young  girl  of  sixteen  or 
seventeen  summers,  stepped  into  the  room ;  she  walked 
lightly  by  the  bed,  and  discovering  that  he  was  awake, 
whispered,  "  It  is  not  good  to  sleep  more,  senor ;"  then 
extinguishing  the  light,  passed  oat  into  the  yard. 

A  very  few  minutes  sufficed  to  rouse  John  Glanton  and 
the  lieutenant,  and  to  call  in  Tom  Simpson,  who  was  on 
guard  at  the  stables.  None  of  them  doubted  that  danger 
of  some  sort  was  impending,  but  the  nature  of  that  danger 


280  BERNARD     LILE. 

was  a  question  of  more  difficult  solution.  Their  first  care 
was  to  examine  the  door  by  which  the  girl  had  entered. 
They  found  this  to  consist  of  a  strong  wooden  frame,  filled 
with  iron  nails,  driven  into  the  wood,  and  painted  so  as  to 
resemble  exactly  the  adjacent  wall.  With  difficulty  they 
discovered  the  spring  by  which  it  closed,  and  opening  it 
looked  out  upon  a  sharp  precipice  on  the  face  of  the 
mountain,  accessible  only  by  a  very  narrow  and  difficult 
foot-path. 

"  That  will  do,"  said  Lile,  after  completing  his  examina- 
tion of  the  premises ;  "  Tom,  do  you  and  Lieut.  

take  post  at  the  outer  gate — see  that  it  is  securely  barred 
and  fastened,  and  that  no  one  opens  it  from  the  inside. 
John  Glanton  and  I  will  make  good  this  pass  against  more 
men  than  can  be  assembled  in  these  mountains  on  a  few 
hours'  notice." 

The  lights  were  extinguished.  Each  one  took  the  post 
assigned  him,  and  awaited  with  the  patient  watchfulness  of 
the  cat  the  coming  of  the  foe. 

The  moon  was  shining  brightly  overhead,  but  the  thick 
foliage  of  the  mountain-side  covered  the  earth  with  its 
shadows,  and  the  glimpses  our  watchers  were  enabled  to 
catch  of  the  little  pathway,  were  dim  and  indistinct.  Pre- 
sently there  was  a  noise  as  of  feet  clambering  over  loose 
stones,  and  then,  where  a  little  patch  of  moonlight  fell 
unobstructed  through  the  trees,  the  flash  of  arms  was  dis- 
tinctly visible.  The  party  appeared  to  be  about  ten  in 
number,  but  Lile  judged  correctly,  that  there  was  a  sup- 
porting party  in  the  rear.  When  the  advance  had  ascended 
to  the  summit  of  the  mountain,  the  leader  paused  and 
seemed  to  hesitate.  The  secret  door  was  wide  open,  a 
circumstance  upon  which  he  had  not  calculated,  and  which 
excited  rather  unpleasant  suspicions.  The  dead  silence 
which  reigned  within  quieted  his  apprehensions,  and  after 


BERNARD     LILB.  281 

a  brief  consultation  with  his  men,  they  again  advanced. 
They  were  now  within  five  feet  of  the  door  when  two  re- 
volvers, in  quick  succession,  hurled  as  many  victims  to  the 
ground.  Two  more  followed,  and  the  remainder  of  the 
Mexicans,  without  firing  a  shot,  rolled,  rather  than  fled, 
down  the  mountain.  Once  under  cover  of  the  trees,  they 
commenced  a  harmless  fire  upon  the  doorway.  Their 
friends  from  below  also  joined  them,  and  the  balls  came 
pattering  thick  and  heavy  through  the  narrow  entrance. 
Lile  and  Glanton  did  not  attempt  to  return  the  fire,  but 
husbanded  all  their  energies  for  the  assault  which  they 
supposed  would  soon  be  made. 

At  the  first  sound  of  firearms,  Simpson  and  the  lieutenant 
had  drawn  themselves  deep  in  the  shadow  of  the  arched 
gateway.  Directly  hurrying  steps  were  heard  approaching 
from  the  inside,  and  their  host,  rushing  to  the  gate,  began 
with  eager  hands  to  unfasten  the  heavy  bars.  A  grasp  of 
iron  was  laid  upon  his  shoulder — he  was  drawn  suddenly 
back,  and  before  he  had  time  to  utter  more  than  a  single 
exclamation,  the  bowie  knife  of  the  hunter  was  buried  in 
his  heart. 

"  Now,"  said  Simpson,  "  one  of  us  is  enough  to  keep  this 
post,  I'll  go  in  to  help  the  captain  and  Glanton." 

Soon  afterwards  the  firing  from  below  ceased,  and  it 
became  evident  that  the  enemy  were  preparing  for  a 
"rush."  Leaving  the  pathway,  they  climbed  up  the  moun- 
tain, and  collected  in  knots  on  each  side  of  the  door,  where 
they  were  completely  sheltered  from  the  fire  of  the  de- 
fenders. At  a  preconcerted  signal,  they  rushed  into  the 
narrow  entrance  with  levelled  lances,  and  a  wild  yell,  that 
would  have  struck  terror  into  hearts  less  bold  and  self- 
reliant  than  those  opposed  to  them.  At  the  first  step  they 
were  greeted  by  a  deadly  fire  of  revolvers,  and  then  the 


282  B  E  B  X  A.  R  D     L  I  L  E . 

heavy  sabre  of  Lile,  and  the  knives  of  Simpson  and  Glan- 
ton  were  applied  with  murderous  fury.  In  less  than  two 
minutes  the  dark  passage  was  piled  with  ten  ghastly 
corpses,  and  their  surviving  comrades  were  flying  in  terror 
from  the  bloody  scene. 

"  They  are  gone  this  time,"  said  Life,  after  a  moment's 
pause,  "and  will  return  no  more.  Strike  a  light,  John, 
and  let  us  see  what  has  been  done." 

His  voice  was  calm  and  unruffled  as  if  nothing  extra- 
ordinary had  occurred,  and  neither  of  his  comrades  sus- 
pected that  he  had  received  a  scratch,  much  less  that  he 
had  a  death  wound  in  his  bosom. 

When  the  lights  were  brought,  the  dead  bodies  thrown 
outside,  and  the  secret  panel  closed,  he  sat  down  upon  a 
couch,  and  said,- 

"  Bring  me  a  basin  of  water,  and  tear  a  bandage  from 
one  of  these  sheets.  There  is  an  ounce  ball  in  my  bosom, 
which  must  prove  fatal,  but  I  do  not  want  to  die  here. 
We  must  do  what  we  can  to  save  my  strength  for  the 
journey  to  the  city." 

The  wound  was  washed — it  bled  but  little,  and  there 
was  a  dark  blue  ring  around  the  ragged  edges,  which,  to 
their  experienced  eyes,  spoke  too  surely  of  approaching 
death.  When  the  bandage  was  securely  fastened,  Tom 
Simpson  turned  away — the  big  tears  were  rolling  down 
his  _cheek,  and  his  voice  was  choked  and  husky,  as  he 
exclaimed, 

"Oh!  God,  this  is  horrible." 

"  Not  so,  Tom,"  was  Lile's  reply.  "  You  and  I  have 
inflicted  a  hundred  such  wounds  in  our  day,  and  we  knew 
long  ago  that  fate  might  well  have  in  store  something  of 
the  sort  for  us." 

John  Glanton  spoke  not,  but  there  was  a  deadly,  snaky 
glare  in  his  eye,  and  none  who  knew  him  could  have 


BERNARD     LILE.  283 

doubted  that  he  was  revolving  some  scheme  of  wild  and 
fearful  vengeance. 

The  premises  were  now  searched,  and  a  light  cart  with 
a  couple  of  mules  procured  to  transport  the  wounded  man 
to  the  City  of  Mexico.  This  was  filled  with  straw  and 
clothing  from  the  hacienda,  and  soon  after  sunrise  the 
melancholy  party  took  up  the  line  of  march  for  the  head- 
quarters of  the  American  army.  John  Glanton  had  re- 
mained a  little  behind.  At  the  first  bench  of  the  mountain 
they  paused  to  await  his  coming.  A  heavy  smoke  was  now 
rising  from  the  hacienda. 

"  What  have  you  done,  John,"  asked  Lile  of  Glanton,  as 
he  rode  up. 

"  Set  fire  to  the  d d  den  of  cut-throats  in  four 

places,"  was  the  fierce  'reply,  "and  pitched  the  dead  body 
of  the  owner  on  the  flames.  It  is  well  the  Peons  had  fled, 
Or  I  should  have  piled  them  on  alive." 

"  I  am  sorry  for  it.  It  will  do  me  no  good,  and  you 
will  remember  it  hereafter  with  sorrow." 

"  Not  I,"  answered  the  reckless  Ranger.  "  And  besides, 
if  I  had  gone  home  and  told  my  father  that  I  had  left  one 
rafter  on  that  infernal  hacienda,  he  would  have  disowned 
his  son." 

Proceeding  along  the  bench  of  the  mountain,  their  atten- 
tion was  soon  attracted  by  one  of  those  natural  phenomena, 
which  the  dwellers  on  the  plains  never  witness. 

Around  them  the  sun  was  shining  brightly,  and  the 
heavens  above  were  unmarked  by  a  single  cloud.  Far 
beneath  them,  midway  between  the  valley  and  the  moun- 
tain top,  the  tempest  had  gathered  its  army  of  clouds,  and 
the  pall  of  night  was  over  the  land.  Upon  its  dark  sur- 
face, the  lightning  was  tracing  lines  of  terrible  beauty,  and 
the  loud  artillery  of  heaven  rolled  upward  from  the  vast 
and  gloomy  depth.  With  wonder  and  awe  they  halted  to 


284  BERNARD     LILE. 

gaze  upon  the  wild  sublimity  of  the  scene.  After  awhile 
the  lightning  played  less  fiercely  upon  the  gloomy  curtain 
— the  thick  darkness  began  to  disappear — slowly  and  sul- 
lenly, cloud  after  cloud  detached  itself  from  the  blackened 
mass — one  by  one  they  melted  away,  and  lake,  and  field, 
and  hamlet,  and  city,  lay  stretched  out  before  them,  glow- 
ing and  glittering  in  the  glad  light  of  the  glorious  sun  of 
the  tropics. 

"  There,  Tom,"  said  Lile,  slowly  and  thoughtfully,  "  is  a 
type  of  the  life  now  drawing  to  its  close.  For  many  years 
there  was  a  curtain  before  my  vision,  which  shut  out  all 
things  bright  and  beautiful,  and  was  checquered  only  by 
images  as  fearful  as  the  pathway  of  the  forked  lightning. 
I  remember  when  I  sought  in  vain  to  penetrate  the  future, 
and  catch  but  a  single  ray  of  hope.  The  tempest  and  the 
night  were  there,  and  all  beyond  was  darkness  and  sorrow. 
But,  thank  God,  he  sent  an  angel  to  bring  sunlight  to  an 
overshadowed  heart,  and  now,  when  about  to  stand  face  to 
face  with  my  Maker,  I  can  join  in  the  rejoicing  song. 
'  Lo !  the  winter  is  past,  and  the  rain  is  over  and  gone. 
The  flowers  appear  on  the  earth;  the  time  of  the  singing 
of  birds  is  come,  and  the  voice  of  the  turtle  is  heard  in  our 
land."' 

Simpson  had  ridden  by  the  side  of  Lile,  sad,  silent,  and 
dejected.  The  certainty  of  the  speedy  death  of  his  friend, 
had  bowed  that  iron  man  even  to  the  dust,  and  he  answered 
his  cheering  words  only  with  sobs  and  tears.  Glanton  and 
the  Lieutenant  were  also  silent  and  moody.  Neither  replied 
to  the  observations  of  their  wounded  comrade,  but  de- 
scended slowly  and  mournfully  into  the  valley  of  Mexico. 

For  miles  the  country  gave  evidence  of  careful  cultiva- 
tion. White  haciendas  every  where  dotted  its  surface. 
Plantations  of  magua,  spread  out  on  either  hand,  and 
hedges  of  cactus  added  a  wild  and  singular  beauty  to  the 


BERNARD     LILE.  285 

scene.  The  country  was  unscathed  by  war,  and  long  lines 
of  pack  mules,  loaded  with  grain  and  other  provisions  for 
the  market  in  Mexico,  thronged  the  roads.  But  as  the 
party  approached  the  head  of  Lake  Tezcuco,  a  wide  change 
was  manifest.  A  white  salty  coating  crusted  the  earth. 
Dreary  marshes,  through  which  struggled  up  a  tough  russet 
colored  grass,  wearied  the  eye.  Not  a  living  thing  was 
moving  on  the  wide  expanse,  and  over  all  the  hot  sun 
poured  down  his  fierce  and  fiery  rays. 

"  Far  as  the  eye  could  reach,  no  tree  was  seen ; 
Earth  clad  in  russet,  scorned  the  lively  green. 
No  birds  except  as  birds  of  passage  flew  ; 
No  bee  was  heard  to  hum,  no  dove  to  coo; 
No  streams  as  amber  smooth,  as  amber  clear, 
Were  seen  to  glide  or  heard  to  warble  here." 

The  gloom  and  melancholy  around  accorded  well  with 
the  feelings  in  the  hearts  of  the  travelers,  save  that  one  on 
whom  the  shadow  of  death  even  then  was  resting.  From 
time  to  time,  he  addressed  cheering  words  to  his  comrades 
— suppressed  every  utterance  of  pain,  and  spoke  in  a  tone 
of  hope  and  confidence  they  had  never  heard  him  indulge 
before. 

At  night,  when  they  had  stopped  to  rest  in  a  lonely 
hacienda,  he  called  Simpson  to  the  side  of  his  couch,  and 
said, 

"  My  strength  is  going,  Tom,  faster  than  I  thought,  and 
I  had  better  tell  you  now  what  I  wish  done  when  I  am 

gone.  Carry  my  body  to  the  village  of ,  in  New 

Hampshire;  search  out  one  John  Abbott,  and  tell  him 
that  is  all  that  remains  of  Bernard  Lile.  He  will  know 
what  to  do.  You  know  where  my  papers  are,  take  them 
with  you.  There  is  a  will  among  them,  dividing  my  pro- 
perty between  John  Abbott  and  yourself.  Read  all  you 


286  B  E  K  X  A  II  D      LI  L  K  • 

find  written  there  together,  and  when  the  perusal  is  ended, 
commit  all  but  the  will  to  the  flames.  If  you  wish  to  know 
anything  more  of  the  early  history  of  the  friend  you  have 
served  so  faithfully,  ask  him,  he  will  tell  you.  And  now, 
my  friend,  grieve  not  for  me  ;  my  task  on  earth  is  fulfilled, 
and  it  is  fitting  I  should  die  thus.  For  many  a  year  I  have 
not  known  so  happy  an  hour  as  this.  There  is  an  angel 
waiting  for  me  above,  and  that  glad  meeting  will  repay  me 
a  thousand  fold  for  all  the  trials,  and  sorrows  of  this  life 
below." 

Simpson  promised  all  that  he  was  asked,  but  the  sobs 
that  shook  his  sturdy  frame,  told  how  little  he  was  able  to 
comply  with  the  hard  injunction  not  to  mourn  over  the 
doom  of  a  friend  he  had  loved  so  long  and  so  well. 

The  next  morning,  Lile  was  much  weaker,  but  very 
cheerful.  He  was  placed  in  the  cart,  and  on  the  road, 
conversed,  at  intervals,  with  his  companions  in  his  usual 
unimpassioned  voice.  He  had  been  silent  for  some  minutes, 
when,  as  they  approached  the  little  town  of  Gaudalupe 
Hidalgo,  Simpson  addressed  him  a  question.  There  was 
no  answer — riding  up  to  the  side  of  the  cart,  he  laid  his 
hand  upon  his  breast — almost  instantly  a  cry  of  agony 
rent  the  air,  and  the  hunter  fell  from  his  horse,  as  if  a  rifle 
ball  had  passed  through  his  brain.  Glanton  rushed  to  the 
aid  of  Simpson,  and  the  Lieutenant  approached  the  cart ; 
Bernard  Lile  was  a  corpse.  Calmly,  peacefully,  as  an 
infant  in  its  slumbers,  his  spirit  had  passed  away. 

"  He  is  gone,"  said  the  Lieutenant,  as  Glanton,  after 
assisting  to  recover  Simpson,  also  approached. 

"Yes!"  said  the  Ranger,  looking  mournfully  upon  the 
dead  body,  "  the  best  soldier  the  world  ever  saw,  or  ever 
will  again,  has  left  our  camp  forever." 

Here,  reader,  we  must  let  the  curtain  drop.  There  are 
those  still  living  to  whom  all  that  follows  would  be  dis- 


BERNARD     LILE.  287 

tasteful.  The  after  fate  of  the  actors  in  the  wild  scenes  we 
have  painted,  is  not  accessary  to  develope  whatever  in- 
struction is  to  be  drawn  from  the  pages  of  this  history,  and 
you  must  pardon  us  for  not  gratifying  a  curiosity  which 
would  certainly  bring  sorrow  to  others,  and  no  probable 
benefit  to  you.  i 


THE    END. 


:  SOUTHERN  REGIONAL 


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